Limits
by SorryImLate
Summary: Iruka has lived in slavery for most of his life, knowing nothing of the outside world. He has one hour left to live, and then the unexpected happens. Re-written/edited
1. Chapter 1

Warnings; Topic - slavery.

Credit/thanks;  
TheApatheticEmpath, who helped me create the foundation of this story.  
Quillspirit; my beta/editor for this story  
Althea17; for teaching me spelling/grammar techniques and giving me a big confidence boost!  
Thank you!

x—

Dark, bruised skin hit the cold ground with a loud thud. Scraped, trembling hands slapped against the wooden floorboards causing the chains locked around them to rattle violently along the rough surface.

As the cool air fell upon his back, he felt the familiar burning sensation rise in his skin from the previous slap of the leather belt, which was currently wrapped tightly around his master's fist.

Iruka straightened his arms to keep the balance on his knees steady. A heavy collection of pants left his lips as he listened carefully to the footsteps shifting behind him, desperately trying to pinpoint his attacker's location without making the grave mistake of meeting his eyes.

"One thing!" the cold hiss pierced into his ears with a tone he recognized too well. "I asked one thing from you, and you've fucked it up again!"

Iruka kept his eyes fixed on the single wooden board beneath him, trying to blink away the blurred image and regain focus of his vision. Every muscle beneath his skin ached so much they felt as though they would tear any minute from the strain he was forcing upon them. The constant numbness in his stomach made his focus all the more difficult; he was starving and needed food, yet the young slave had a terrifying feeling the chance of such a blessing would remain a fantasy for another night.

"I've given you _more_ than enough chances," his master growled, "I have been _more_ than generous!"

The voice began to fade inside Iruka's head, the words slurring into a long, distant, low-pitched echo. His surroundings began to swirl and he closed his eyes to stop the dizziness, before his entire body slowly gave in, and he collapsed onto the floor.

The peaceful darkness didn't last long when he felt a strong hand grab a fistful of brown hair and jerk his head back. A harsh breath escaped Iruka's lips and he opened his eyes weakly, snapping out of the darkness.

"Ungrateful little shit!" his master shouted, furious at the insult of being ignored by the slave. "I've had enough! I can't and won't afford to keep you anymore!"

A strong hand suddenly clamped tightly around the exposed skin of the slave's neck and he let out a choked gasp of both surprise and panic. His trembling hands snapped up to grab his master's, his fingernails sinking lightly into the flesh with little energy to add much pressure. Two thick tears rolled down his cheeks as he tried to gasp back some air, but the hand stayed tightly squeezed against his windpipe, counting down his remaining minutes.

No matter how much force he tried to use to pull the hand away, his muscles wouldn't cooperate. He didn't have enough energy to fight back this time.

Black dots appeared in his sight, clouding his vision once again as his body began to shut down for the final time. His hands released his master's, overpowered by the sudden incredible weight of his own chains. Eyes slowly closing, he gave into his fate.

The faint sound of the doorbell echoing from the main house caused the strong hand to suddenly freeze. The elder male glanced to the wooden door with dark, piercing eyes, an eyebrow rising curiously.

His hand slipped from the Iruka's neck, causing the young slave to lose his balance and collapse back against the floor while fighting for large gulps of air. A small whimper escaped his lips as he felt a throbbing pain swirl around his head, to the back of his eyes, an effect from the cut-off oxygen from the brain.

"One more chance," his master warned, pointing a firm, final finger towards the slave. "You fuck this one up - you'll be buried outside in the next hour." The cold, fixed stare was more than enough to convince the slave that he meant it.

The doorbell rang again with impatience and the elder male stood to his full, short height. He quickly approached and opened the door, before slamming it behind him again.

The sharp slide of the bolt against the door sent a jolt through Iruka's nerves. He lay still on the floor, letting his body rest while he focussed on his breathing. His hand rested lightly against his throat, soothing the bruising with his body warmth.

His tired eyes soon flickered to the door and he felt a new sense of fear surround him.

He had one hour to live, depending on his performance.

x—

Buzzing the doorbell once more, Kakashi let out a small sigh of relief; he had hoped that Masaki wouldn't be home.

He was tired and injured from his previous mission, wanting nothing more than to return home for a hot, soothing bath and a long, recovering sleep.

Unfortunately, he had business to discuss with his 'partner.'

It was a business that had been built between Kakashi's and Masaki's fathers and passed down between the two men.

Since the death of his wife, Sakumo had kept a watchful eye on Kakashi, concerned at how his son would manage without a mother's role in a childhood. As someone who had lost a parent from an early age too, Sakumo understood clearly the damage and pain that can linger throughout the years; after all, the leaf village was no stranger to the death of its shinobi.

The pain they both shared inspired Sakumo to find ways of helping other children who had experienced the loss of parents, and so, teaming up with a close family friend, they split the money and had an orphanage built on the outskirts of Konoha, to ensure that every child from each Country surrounding was welcome to stay.

When Sakumo died, the man's half of the orphanage was passed down to Kakashi, who did his best to meet his father's expectations. Knowing how much the orphanage meant to his father, Kakashi made the business a main priority in his life, as well as his duties towards his Village and Hokage. He put in as many hours he could around his busy schedule, and raised enough money each month to ensure the orphans were being well-fed and looked after.

For the first few years, he remained in business with Masaki's father, a man Kakashi had been convinced was an uncle until around the age of seven, making Masaki a once-believed cousin.

Masaki's father died three years later, automatically passing his half of the business to his son.

For a year or so, Masaki followed Kakashi's steps. That was, however, until Kakashi noticed patterned losses in the records; from the dropping numbers of education classes, the decreasing budget of food-shopping transferred to the orphanage; something had clearly gone wrong. The numbers of so many essentials had gone down.

At first, Kakashi was convinced that Masaki had limited his own budget towards the orphanage; that he wasn't paying his fair share. He headed to the orphanage as soon as he could to find out what was going on from the employees who worked there, and soon learned that the budget was decreasing due to the amount of children disappearing from the orphanage; there were less mouths to feed, and too less children attending classes to keep them running.

Kakashi wasted no time in investigating, and started with demanding records and bank statements from Masaki; since they both owned the orphanage, it was up to them to raise the money and split it down the middle. Kakashi had been paying the exact amount needed every time, and the only conclusion was that Masaki was not paying his fair share. After some intimidating persuasion, his partner handed them over, and everything began to unravel. Money had been increasing in Masaki's bank account, though it wasn't because of the decreasing amount he gave to the orphanage; it was thousands more.

After an hour of demanding, Masaki finally gave in and admitted to selling the orphans on to various clients around the area. He believed that the orphanage was wasting money on children who had no real use in this life, no ambitions or dreams – their lives were already broken and they would never be 'who they were' again with their families gone. He believed they would make better use of themselves by learning the world the hard way – just like he and Kakashi had done. Neither of them had food given to them for free; they had to earn it by working at such young ages – why should these children have been any different?

He offered Kakashi half of the money he had earned, a half of the orphanage rightly belonged to the jounin; meaning, half the amount of children belonged to him too. His offer was declined with a hard punch to the face; although Kakashi's life after the death of his father hadn't exactly been fortunate, he had known other orphans who had had it even worse, yet with support around them, they soon found their paths again. The Hidden Leaf Village was no stranger to orphans; sometimes ninjas were given no choice but to sacrifice their lives for their village, leaving behind homeless children who were supposed to be Konoha's next generation. As far as he was concerned, every child was significant and worth the best chance of life as possible.

The 'fall out' had put a huge strain on Kakashi's life, as he had two different yet both difficult jobs; in his Village, he risked his life every day, and during what was supposed to be recovery leave, he was forced to keep a close eye on his 'partner' to ensure that history didn't repeat itself.

He tried to buy the other half of the orphanage from Masaki, but his partner refused every offering occasion. Kakashi guessed it was Masaki's pride; he _knew_ that Kakashi couldn't take the orphanage from him, meaning he couldn't take his dignity and control from him either.

Masaki had promised, with the help of Kakashi's threatening words, that history would not repeat itself, but as he lost Kakashi's trust, he also lost a lot of responsibility; if he entered or exited the orphanage, Kakashi made aware of it, as well as every transaction that interfered with the records.

Eventually, Masaki lost interest in the orphanage, giving Kakashi the worrying thought that his promises had meant nothing in the first place; if Kakashi hadn't of kept an eye on him, Masaki may have continued his dealings behind his back.

An extended construction was built beside Masaki's mansion, and _there_ history repeated itself. Kakashi had no control over that; there were so many clients around the area that simply draining out Masaki's business wouldn't affect the entire market. It was on outskirts of Konoha, and so even the Hokage had no say in the laws around there. He also knew that however many of Masaki's slaves were freed, his partner would simply find more. There was no way out, and so Kakashi acted in the best way he could think of.

Every month or so, at the end of every mission, he visited Masaki's home and bought each slave at a time. Masaki was soon under the impression that greed had taken over Hatake Kakashi and that the jounin was selling them on for his own profit; Kakashi had to keep that hypocritical appearance up, knowing that if messed up, Masaki would not sell to him again.

Once the slaves were bought, they were sent back to the orphanage. As Masaki had lost interest in it, Kakashi had little worries in doing as he pleased with it. The orphanage had, behind Masaki's back, become a refuge for the slaves, welcoming any age and origin. The money both he and Masaki put in went towards their food, water, clothing, education, counselling and even small holiday-breaks to help them learn more about the outside world.

After what seemed like hours, Kakashi turned to head back down the path, but the click of the door made him stop in his tracks. The door opened and he glanced back to see Masaki standing in the doorway, offering a bright smile every client held when the possibility of profit was dangled before their eyes.

"Kakashi-san, so nice to see you again," Masaki called out, already motioning for him to come inside. "It's been what, two months?"

"Maa, I've been really busy lately," Kakashi stepped inside and toed off his sandals. "I've got a spare hour on me though, so I thought I'd pop by and discuss that weekend-break we talked about last time."

"Yes, of course," Masaki quickly answered, with a distant tone that indicated his attention was elsewhere. "But first, I have another proposition for you,"

A proposition. Masaki was always careful with the words he used around Kakashi, a habit for all those who had been at the receiving end of the copy ninja's temper.

"Go on," Kakashi murmured, appearing interested for the right reasons.

He was led through the mansion and outside through the back door. A bright, green field surrounded the mansion, with a large, round pond planted in the middle. There were small trees scattered around, blossomed with bright, colourful flowers. Embedded into the grass, were two, large poles, standing only a couple of feet from each other. There were more scattered around, shaped into large crosses; Kakashi had never been sure what they were for, but the sight of the chains at the bottom, gave him the eerie feeling each time he visited, that the slaves were familiar with the object.

To the side of the mansion sat a long row of small wooden sheds, with each door bolted so many times it would take hours for someone to break into, or out of.

Masaki approached the shed that sat closest to the mansion. Unhooking the chain from around his neck, he began to unfasten the locks.

"This one's been here for years. The price is lower than usual because," he suddenly paused, and then offered Kakashi a weak smile. "Well, you'll see for yourself,"

Kakashi's eye glanced up to the door of the shed, preparing himself for the sight that would welcome him. He had dealt with many of these slaves before and had begun to understand which signals meant what, and how to respond to those signals. Some of them were too frightened to stand, speak or even make eye contact, yet each of them were eager to survive another day by being sold. Kakashi could only guess that failing to win the approval of a client would lose Masaki money, which would also result in the injuries he often noticed on them, and so Kakashi ensured that each time he visited, the first slave he came across would always be the one he bought.

The sound of the sliding bolt, again, jolted through Iruka's nerves. His tired eyes snapped up to the door and he inhaled a long, shaky breath. Slapping his palms onto the wood, he slowly forced himself to his knees. His muscles burned with every movement, desperately straining with the little energy they had. He blinked his eyes tightly to move the blurred vision from his sight, and sucked in the small puddle of blood from the bottom of his lip to tidy his face, eager to impress his client to the best of his extent, to survive.

A dark cloud of fear rained over him with the knowledge that if this client declined him, he would die.

The door finally opened and Masaki stepped aside, motioning for Kakashi to enter first. After a small moment of preparing himself, Kakashi inhaled a small breath of air and stepped inside.

A repulsive smell welcomed him, though the scent wasn't a stranger to these sheds. The sun's light left a long line across the wooden floorboards from the angle of the door. Kakashi's eye followed it, quickly catching the thick chain attached to the wall, its links trailed across the floor and into the shadows. Below the chain was a small, half-empty bowl of water, containing a dark, murky colour that Kakashi would never think twice about feeding a dog to.

His eye followed the chain into the shadows as Masaki opened the door wider, stretching the light to give the jounin a better view.

A young male was sat in the middle of the room, each limb locked with chains that allowed movement access but not long enough to reach the door. Kakashi's eye followed along the dark skin, wondering whether the colouring was natural or simply dirt. He was naked; for better hygiene, or the client's viewing, Kakashi wasn't sure. He glanced to the man's face, or what could be seen of his face, through the thick, greasy strands of hair that stuck to his skin. Through the dark locks, he immediately noticing the long, deep scar tissue stretched across his nose, possibly the reason for Masaki's lower pricing. Kakashi's eye stayed fixed on it with an unreadable expression, before he tilted his head slightly to take a better look of the man's face. He could see the slave watching his shadow through dark, careful eyes, not daring enough to meet the client's eye just yet.

"What is his name?"

Masaki's eyes lit up at the signs of the slave being sold, and was quick enough to answer; "His name is Sai."

Iruka's eyes stayed fixed on the client's shadow, avoiding his master's. For years he had refused to give into Masaki by telling his name; at first, out of fear, yet later, out of survival. He believed that it was the first step to being broken, by giving his master the name of who he was. Eventually, Masaki became tired of demanding and simply fixed the issue by giving him another name; Sai.

The shadow shifted. Iruka's eyes locked back onto it as the dark patch of light grew, signalling the client approaching him. In the corner of his eye, he watched the tall frame stand over him with a deep, intimidating stare, before the client then slowly knelt down opposite him.

"Can you speak?" Kakashi asked in a soft, gentle tone.

With the question directed specifically at him, Iruka daringly made eye contact. The client's eye was fixed on him, curled into a soft arch that signalled a warm smile. Iruka's face wrinkled into a weak grimace, disgusted by the welcoming smile that attempted to lure him into a false sense of security. He was too old and experienced to fall for such a game.

At the expression, the smile slipped away from Kakashi's face, believing that he was behaving too informal in, what seemed like for the slave, an extremely tense atmosphere.

Masaki cleared his throat, a signal that caught Iruka's attention. A cold glare shot his way, telling the slave he was walking on very thin ice; if he didn't win this client, he would die.

Iruka glanced back to the client, noticing the man's eye once again fixed on the scar on his nose; the scar that had angered Masaki in so many ways, limiting his chances of being sold when there were unspoiled faces in the other sheds.

A gloved hand lifted towards his face. The client's eye seemed distant, lost in his thoughts as he extended a finger. Iruka's eyes locked onto the digit, twitching hesitantly as he subconsciously leaned his head back an inch to evade the contact. The finger poked gently against the scar and he closed his eyes tightly, feeling the soft skin stroke along the dead tissue.

A small smile slipped past Kakashi's lips beneath his mask, until he noticed the slave's fingers twitching with the urge to slap away his hand, yet too afraid of the consequences. He quickly broke the contact, returning the man his comfort zone.

"So," Masaki's voice disturbed the silence. "Are you interested?" he asked, seeming thrilled with Kakashi's reaction to the slave.

Iruka's eyes lowered back to the man's shadow, the tired muscles in his shoulders subconsciously tensing. The image of the client's smile vanishing from his face at his grimace returned to his mind with deep regret, realising he may have blown his chance. As the client stared at him in thought, Iruka began to plan his strategy on how he would fight off Masaki once they were alone. He mentally pinpointed possible weapons available to him; the chains, the water bowl, his teeth. He would fight with every ounce of energy he had, until his fate was decided.

"How much?" Kakashi asked, watching the slave intently.

"Well," Masaki sighed and folded his arms as he looked over the slave with a focussed eye. "My usual price is five, but considering the scar, I'll make it three."

"Deal."

Iruka froze, wide eyes blinking back to the client. His mouth opened in a silent gasp, a shaky breath escaping his lips. As the client's word sunk in, his shoulders began to tremble with sudden realisation that he was going to survive. He looked up at Masaki to ensure he'd heard right, and saw a rare smile form on his master's face that he had never seen before.

Kakashi watched the trembling slave with a concerned eye, feeling a deep sense of pity for the man, that he seemed so overwhelmed to be freed from this place after so many years. He placed a light, gentle hand on the man's thigh to calm him. The slave flinched, causing the jounin to mirror the startled movement as a thin leg and heavy chain shot through the air towards him. An ear-piercing, vicious hiss that no dignified man could make bounced off the walls and Kakashi jumped to his feet, leaping back as the chain came crashing down against the floorboards.

The slave relaxed to gulp back some air, his shoulders slouching dramatically in what looked like exhaustion from that single movement. Through soft pants, he glanced up at the client and Kakashi could see the regret flash through those hesitant, dark orbs at what he had just done.

"Maa," Kakashi chuckled weakly and turned to Masaki, catching the deadly glare that was once again shot to the slave, yet the expression vanished as soon as he noticed the jounin's eye on him. Kakashi chose to ignore it. "That's quite a temper he's got there," His silver brow rose dangerously, eye darkening. "This wouldn't, by any chance, be the slave who stabbed your shoulder those years back, would it? I'm hurt that you neglected to warn me, Masaki-_san_."

Masaki instinctively took a large step back and let out an extremely weak chuckle. "He's a lot better now!"

Through his blurred vision, Iruka could see the fear rolling off of his master at the client's anger, immediately recognizing the hierarchy between the two men. He looked back to the client, sensing the deep tone of authority and danger in his voice that was making the man, _he_ feared more than anything, squirm with nerves. A sudden sense of dread washed over him as he realised this client was now possibly his new master; if he could make Masaki resort to trembling, what would the client do with _him_?

"Two hundred!" Masaki bargained desperately, "I'll even stick in a free rod with it – a smack behind the knees and he'll be as good as gold, I guarantee you!"

Kakashi's eye fell on Iruka again with a look of irritation at Masaki's behaviour. The slave's eyes immediately sank back to his shadow, not wanting to anger the man anymore than Masaki already was.

Realising that he was making the slave feel uneasy, the jounin quickly calmed his expression. "Have him dressed and ready to leave in the next hour," he ordered, "I want him properly bathed and fed while we work," His eye snapped over to Masaki. "And you'll get your three hundred."

Relief washed over Masaki's face and he nodded quickly, his bright smile returning. "Of course!"

"Right," A small sigh left Kakashi's lips as he rubbed the back of his neck. "Let's go back inside and discuss this weekend-break,"

With one last glance of the slave, Kakashi turned and left the shed. Masaki followed after, closing the shed door behind him.

Darkness surrounded Iruka again. He listened as the bolts slid back across the door, his eyes wide in disbelief.

He had been sold.

As the foot steps faded, he finally gave into his exhaustion, letting his body collapse back against the floorboards.

He had never gotten this far before; he had no idea how to react, what to expect.

He lay there in silence, waiting for whatever was to come.

x—

A light slap to his cheek woke Iruka from his sleep and he slowly opened his eyes, a quiet whine escaping his lips. A familiar, female face covered his view, her eyes piercing into his as she gave his cheek another soft pat.

"Up," the maid demanded, rolling back onto her heels as she stood up before him. "You need cleaning."

Through his tired eyes, he noticed two more maids shift into his view, and began unfastening the chains around his limbs. The female standing before him watched his movements carefully, while gripping a thin, long stick in her hand for their own protection.

Once freed, a single chain quickly locked his wrists together behind his back, ensuring that if the slave were to attempt to overpower them, he would have little movement to reveal much threat. Finally prepared, he was helped to his feet with gentle, careful hands and led out of the small shed.

Iruka didn't put up a fight, familiar with the washing method they used, yet he was also still exhausted. His legs felt so heavy, as though they would give in any moment and pull his body to the ground. The numbness in his empty stomach did little to distract him from his tiredness, and Iruka hoped that after this wash, his master would feed him.

At that thought, his memory returned to the previous moments before he'd passed out, and he remembered the client accepting the price Masaki had given for him. That feeling of dread returned, as he once again realised that he was now in the hands of a new master, with new rules, limits and consequences. A master who Masaki feared greatly.

Despite his terror, Iruka's mind quickly turned to his main priority; food. It was the greatest weapon a master could use, and Iruka could only imagine what games the client would have in store for him once the slave slipped up in his rules, and how much crueller they could stretch past Masaki's standards.

The tip of the maid's stick prodded gently against his hip, signalling a demand to stop walking and stand still. Iruka obeyed, feeling the warm hands cup around his wrists again as the chains were unlocked, and he was reattached to the two long poles either side of him.

Stretched out, Iruka's muscles tensed in anticipation, before the cold water from the hose slapped against his back. A small whimper escaped his lips and he instinctively arched his back, as the strong line of water stabbed into the whipping marks Masaki had previously given him. The water left the area as quickly as it had come once the maid had sterilized the area, sparing the man from too much discomfort.

x—

"Everything has pretty much been arranged," Kakashi explained as he handed Masaki over the weekend-trip details.

His partner's eyes fell on the paper with an enthusiastic expression, a sign that he wasn't really paying attention to Kakashi's plans. Although it wasn't exactly a good sign for the 'owner' of the orphanage to seem to disinterested his own business, it was always the attitude Kakashi relished; surely, it was only a matter of time before Masaki lost complete interest and sold the other half to his partner.

"There'll be four members of staff joining them," he continued, seeming oblivious to Masaki's boredom. "One, who is trained in first-aid, should there be any accidents. The boat returns at 5pm on Sunday, so they should be back at the orphanage by 6pm."

"A boat?" Masaki's eye squinted in, what looked like, disbelief. "How much is that going to cost?"

"45, there and back – 22.50 each," Kakashi's eye arched into a small, false smile. "So, I just need your signature and they're ready to go,"

With a small grumble, the fat man scribbled down his signature and handed the papers back to Kakashi.

The faint sound of damp foot steps distracted Kakashi from his work and he glanced up to see the familiar maid enter the room, while gently tugging the young slave inside.

The jounin's eye quickly snapped to the young man, noticing the dark, loose yukata hanging from his body that the young slave fingered and fidgeted with, leaving the jounin with the knowledge that this man hadn't worn clothes for a long time. The material looked stretched, wide enough to fit two of the slave in, yet the minor problem was solved with a piece of rope tied gently around his waist, tucking in the old material. The dampness of his hair soaked the water into the material covering his shoulders, causing small, subtle shivers to run down the man's spine. With his skin now washed, Kakashi could see the natural colouring of the slave, of course, between the fading bruises scattered over what could be seen of his body.

As the slave was led inside, Kakashi glanced down to the chains locked around his wrists and ankles, offering him little movement. He fought his urge to ask for both chains to be removed, but after seeing a glimpse of the slave's temper, he felt it was best to wait until they returned to his home, where the slave could understand exactly what was going on. There didn't seem much point in restricting his ankles though, as Kakashi couldn't exactly see much chance of the man outrunning him in his state.

"I'd like the chains removed from his ankles," he spoke up. "We've got a long walk ahead of us and it'll only take longer with those."

"Of course," The maid quickly removed the chains from Iruka's ankles. Approaching the desk the two men were sat, she placed the chain and keys before Kakashi, bowed, and then stepped back.

Iruka took a moment to glance around the room, fascinated with the bright, decorative lights hanging from the ceiling, the polished ornaments scattered around the shelves.

"Has he eaten?" Kakashi then asked.

Iruka's head quickly snapped up to see the client staring at him again with that intent eye. He didn't dare react to signal an answer, as the question hadn't been directed to him. He glanced back to the floor, though his eyes were wide and focussed, as he waited for the correct answer from his superiors.

"The washing took longer than usual, Kakashi-san," the maid quickly answered, offering the man a flattering glance. "We wanted to make sure he looked suitable for you first,"

A small sigh left Kakashi's masked lips. "Forget it, I'll feed him when we get back," He stood up from the table and looked down to his partner. "Masaki-san, it's been great, but I really must leave..."

Nodding, Masaki stood up. "I've got some bits and pieces for Sai to wear, I'll go fetch them now," He turned and motioned for Iruka's attention. "Come."

Iruka obeyed, quickly walking behind Masaki towards the stairs. Kakashi eyed the two warily, before turning back to the maid.

"That man now belongs to me," he said quietly, pointing to the stairs. "I want you to ensure that no one lays a finger on him while he's in this building."

The maid's eyes widened for a split second, torn between her superior and employer's expectations of her; she would never dare to confront or question Masaki's treatment towards the slaves. "Of course," she agreed, nevertheless, to make her own job easier. "Would you like anything else? A drink, maybe?"

With a polite smile, Kakashi shook his head and waved his hand in dismissal.

x—

Masaki led Iruka into the spare room, where the young slave was ordered to stand by the wall and wait. As Masaki opened the large closet, Iruka took the quiet moment to explore the room with his eyes. Again, there were bright lights everywhere that hurt his eyes. The giant bed sat in the middle of the room looked almost the same size as his shed. Iruka stared at the fluffy looking cushions piled neatly in front of the headboard, distantly imagining how the soft looking material would feel against his face and aching eyes.

Various clothing was thrown into a large, black polythene bag, each charity material worn-out, yet suitable for Kakashi's expectations of charity. Once the bag was half-filled, Masaki turned and approached Iruka, handing out the bag to him. Hesitation flashed through the slave's eyes, before he slowly lowered a hand to take the bag, but a familiar, clammy hand suddenly grabbed at his sore throat, banging his head back against the wall. An undignified whimper of pain left Iruka's lips and he scrunched his eyes closed, feeling the man's hot breath stroke across his face.

"Now, listen here, kid," Masaki hissed as he leaned in, leaving a short amount of space between their noses. "Kakashi-san is a very good friend of mine, so I expect you to be on your best behaviour. Give him trouble, and he'll hand it you back twice as worse," He was not prepared to let a mere slave ruin the business relationship he had with his partner.

Iruka glanced up at Masaki through hooded lashes, taking in every word.

"He's not like me," A cruel, cold smirk suddenly twisted on Masaki's lips, satisfied with the slave's reaction. "_Oh no,_ he's a _shinobi. _Do you know what that is?"

Iruka's lips tightened into a thin line, listening intently for the reason behind Masaki's fear of the man, and why he should be afraid of his new master too.

"It's a _killer._ Somebody who can _smell_ your fear, _snap_ your neck with one finger... He won't be as lenient as me – you make him angry, and you'll regret ever being born, so I'd watch that temper, if I were you,"

"Masaki-san!" a female voice interrupted them, and Masaki quickly released his hold on Iruka's neck.

The slave slumped back against the wall, holding a chained hand to his neck to sooth the skin with his body warmth. Masaki's eyes snapped over to the maid with a look of expectance, making the young woman shift on her feet uncomfortably.

"Kakashi-san said to hurry..." she said quietly.

Gathering up his papers, Kakashi glanced over to the stairs when he heard the footsteps return. Iruka stepped down slowly, holding a black bag in his hands and gripping to the banister for balance.

"Ready?" Kakashi asked, catching the man's attention. Iruka stopped for a moment to stare at the client, unsure who he was talking to.

"Come on then!" Masaki scolded wryly, patting a gentle hand on the slave's back.

Iruka quickened his pace and reached the bottom of the stairs. Kakashi approached him, extending a hand to take the bag from the man.

"I'll hold that," he offered with a soft smile that crinkled his eye.

Iruka licked his dry lips and subtly pulled the bag closer to him, an almost pleading look flashing through his eyes. Kakashi blinked, failing to understand why the slave wanted to carry it; he looked exhausted enough. He shrugged, assuming the man wanted a little control in this situation. "Alright." He nodded, letting the man have his way.

x—

They left Masaki's mansion, heading out into the long, wide field surrounding them. A tense silence built between them. Kakashi fished out his orange book and opened it to ease the awkward atmosphere a little, yet his attention was constantly on the man walking behind him.

Iruka took in a long, deep inhale of the fresh air around him, savouring the cool breeze that stroked across his face, the warm sun shining down on him, and the soft, cold grass soothing his feet. It had been so long since he had been anywhere like this, seen anything like this.

Was this what it felt like... to be free?

His dark eyes glanced up to his new master's back, noticing the man's attention sunk into the book he was reading. He looked down to the bag in his hands as he walked, before daringly returning his gaze to his master. This was his chance, and the only one he would ever have in such an open area. He didn't want to go with this man he knew nothing about, who would have different rules to Masaki, stricter warnings, and harsher punishments.

He could do this; if he pushed his legs as hard as he could while the client was distracted, he could leave enough space between them to disappear into the trees in the distance, hide somewhere no master would dream of searching, and rest until the man was convinced he was miles away.

He breathed, gathering his courage; he only had one shot at this. He tensed and unclenched the muscles in his calves and thighs, warming them up for the run.

Finally, with his master's attention still in his book, he flung the black bag out of his arms. The bag flew to the left, hitting the grass with a soft pat, and Kakashi's attention averted there. Iruka ran the opposite way, kicking his legs and straining his muscles.

Surprise didn't exactly welcome Kakashi when he saw the abandoned bag, as he had previously questioned the slave's wish to carry it. He turned to the right to see the Iruka running towards the distance, the heavy chain on his wrists swinging back and forth and whipping at his legs.

He didn't blame the Iruka at all, as it had happened many times before he'd had chance to explain what would happen to the slaves once they were bought. But he couldn't let the man go; he had been locked up for years, isolated and withdrawn from society – he would simply not stand a chance on his own in the outside world. Plus, Masaki could find him again...

Without a seconds thought, he snapped his book closed and buried it back into his pocket, before running after the slave.

Heavy breaths and tired whimpers left Iruka's lips as he ran, feeling his muscles begin to cave in already. His eyes stayed fixed on the trees in the distance, watering with both hope and disbelief. He could do this; his legs could last a little longer, he could make it, he just needed to try harder. He didn't dare to look behind him, not wanting to distract his balance or scare himself with the possibility of his master catching up.

A strong arm slid around his waist, fingers sinking gently into his stomach to catch a firm grip. Iruka screamed in both startle and terror as he was pulled to the ground. Hands slapping into the grass, he tried to drag his body up in a pathetic attempt of crawling, but the client pushed him back into the ground. He growled, wriggling and thrashing as he was turned over onto his back, and the client grabbed hold of his chains, forcing his arms up above his head.

His master straddled him, pinning him tightly to the ground.

A loud, vicious hiss escaped the slave's lips as he forced his body to buck upwards, teeth snapping violently towards Kakashi's throat, forcing the jounin to lean back and avoid the bite.

"Calm down!" Kakashi ordered, but the slave ignored him, twisting his wrists and hips to try and bite at the arms holding him down.

Kakashi bent his elbows slightly to avoid the teeth again, as his eye stared down at the slave in shock and startle; he had never seen a slave behave this way, or at least, have the courage to do so. He could see the absolute terror in the man's eyes, frightened to death of being caught, yet his instincts dominated the emotion in an act of survival; the same way a wild animal would react when cornered by its prey.

After one last attempt, Iruka's muscles finally gave in to his exhaustion and he was forced to relax. He panted hard, chest rising and falling dramatically as he glared up at his master through scorning eyes.

As the slave relaxed, Kakashi took this moment to try and calm him down some more.

"I'm not going to hurt you," he pleaded, using a soft, understanding tone. "I know you're tired, okay? I know you're scared and confused. I'm going to take you to my home, where you can have some food, and then you can sleep for as long as you want, in a warm, comfy bed," He made sure that every word was specific, so there was no misunderstanding.

Iruka's glare gradually faded, seeming to not have enough energy to even make such an expression. He stared up at the client with tired, defeated eyes; his weakness, once again, being used against him.

"We'll figure out what happens from there tomorrow, okay?" Kakashi continued, raising a soft, silver brow. "Please, just trust me for now – I _won't_ hurt you." he repeated.

After a short moment of hesitation, and seeing no other way out, Iruka let out a long, tired sigh and gave a small, weak nod. Kakashi blinked, recognizing for the first time the slave had communicated with him, clarifying that he understood what he was saying.

"Okay," the jounin nodded, and slowly released the man from the pin. Moving into a crouched position, he took the slave's arm and gently tugged, helping the man sit up.

A small, whining whimper escaped Iruka's lips, feeling his entire spine ache painfully from the movement; he couldn't move anymore, he was too tired. He felt a strong arm support his back as he let go of his body weight, too exhausted to hold himself up. Another arm slid under his knees and he was lifted up into his master's arms.

Kakashi watched him with a concerned eye, realising that if the slave had of escaped through the trees, he would have died from exhaustion anyway; there was no energy left in his body whatsoever.

The slave's eyes slowly closed as his body shut down, the escape attempt causing him to finally reach his limit.

Kakashi needed to get home, fast.

Turning to the distance, he focused his chakra and shot through the air, swiping the bag from the grass on the way.

x—

"Sai-kun?" a soft voice triggered through Iruka's head as he felt something rest gently across his forehead. It pressed down, squeezing out cool drops of water that trickled along his forehead, cooling the skin with a soothing sensation.**  
**  
A quiet, slurred noise escaped his lips. He felt hands suddenly touch his legs, stroking along the skin with something damp, yet warm. As the fingers reached his ankles, he realised that his feet were surrounded with wonderful warmth. Finger's rolled across his foot, pressing gently into the skin to bring an enormously strong, yet relieving sensation to his aching feet.

"Wake up, Sai-kun," Kakashi whispered, keeping a concerned eye on the man.

There was that voice again. Iruka's eyes fluttered open to see the familiar blurred vision welcome him. He blinked slowly, trying to find his focus on the shifting image before him. Finally, he found it, and saw his new master smiling softly at him.

"Feel better?"

Iruka slowly glanced down to examine the man's hands, his dark brows knitting into a confused and concerned expression. His master was washing the dirt from his feet from the journey, using nothing but his own, bare hands. His eyebrows knitted deeper, failing to understand the intention behind this; why his master was doing such a thing, and what he would want in return for such kindness. He lifted his feet to move them away, but his master took a firm but gentle hold of them and sunk them back into the bowl of water. Fingertips dug gently into the skin again, shifting the slave's attention back to the soothing sensation. Iruka quickly gave in, a long, shuddered sigh escaping his lips in what looked like relaxation.

"Are you hungry?" Kakashi whispered, and Iruka nodded faintly, his eyes closed in a daze.

A soft smile slipped past the jounin's lips and he continued the massage a little longer, before lifting the man's feet from the bowl and wrapping them inside a dry, warm towel. Wiping his hands dry, he then slowly reached a hand to Iruka's face, watching the young man suppress a cringe, as he gently peeled the cool, damp cloth from his forehead.

"Stay here, I'll bring you something to eat now." Again, he was careful with his words, so Iruka understood exactly what was happening and when.

Iruka opened his eyes when he heard the man move, watching from the corner of his eye as the other left the room. He glanced back down to his feet, flexing his toes inside the towel where he felt a sudden lack of stiffness and aching. His dark brows furrowed again in worry, struggling to grasp this man's intentions; why was he being rewarded with kindness, after he had made the foolish, fatal attempt of escape?

Masaki's warnings troubled his mind; was he already playing his new master's game?

Daringly, he looked up and around the room, trying to find himself some clues. A pair of chains were sat on the floor by the door, next to the radiator, presumably the ones Masaki had given to the client. His eyes snapped around, spotting a long, silver-patterned sword hanging from the wall, accompanied with various smaller ones next to it. The sight sent a twist to his stomach, as Masaki's words twirled deeper into his mind. He would have cried, if he had the energy to.

Kakashi soon returned, holding a tray in his hands, with a bowl sat in it. The smell of the hot food inside that bowl sent a loud, long and deep growl straight through Iruka's gut.

"I don't really have much in at the moment, so this will have to do," Kakashi whispered, settling down opposite the man.

He glanced up, noticing the slave's eyes fixed on the bowl, with an undignified line of drool subconsciously dribbling from the corner of his parted lips. His fingers twitched with the strong urge to snatch the ingredients from his master and force it down his throat before it could be taken away, but he was forcing himself back, afraid of the consequences of never seeing a grain again. Kakashi could see the temptation in his eyes, half expecting the man to take it, but he knew as well as the slave did that he was frightened.

He gently placed the tray down on the slave's lap, picking up both a spoon and pair of chopsticks; unsure which would be more ideal for the seeming clueless male.

Iruka didn't use either; as soon as the tray touched his lap, he dug his hands into the bowl, squashing fistfuls of warm noodles in his hands, and forced one of the portions into his mouth. Kakashi refused to let himself react, feeling his heart sting with absolute pity, that he didn't have it in him to interrupt the meal the slave must have been waiting so long for, just to help him do it properly.

He stood up and turned, giving the man some privacy and reassurance as he ate, and also, to fetch a cloth to clean up the mess the eating method would make. In the short time in which he had left and returned to the room with a cloth, the bowl was empty, and Iruka's face was buried inside it, licking at the left-over juice.

Clearing his throat, Kakashi quickly approached the man and took a gentle, but firm hold of the bowl, moving it away from the man's face.

"Maa," he chuckled weakly at the devastation that flickered through Iruka's eyes. "We don't lick the bowls. You can have some more tomorrow. If I give you more now, you'll get ill, so you can have another bowl tomorrow." He could only imagine that with the small amount of food Iruka received from Masaki, his stomach wouldn't be able to handle too much. Regardless of how the slave felt, it was safer to ensure that his stomach lining grew gradually.

Iruka nodded faintly, obviously disbelieving of his master's theory, but grateful to have been fed. As the slave lifted a sleeve to his mouth, Kakashi quickly placed the cloth to the man's lips, wiping away the mess.

"Do you want a drink?"

He nodded again, taking whatever source of energy his master was prepared to offer him. Moving the tray from Iruka's lap, Kakashi then helped the man out of the towel, to his feet and walked him into the kitchen. Opening the fridge, he quickly searched through the items for an appropriate drink.

_'I don't suppose it's safe for him to drink tea yet,'_ he decided, as he picked out various cartons and bottles and placed them on the work-top.

"Pick whichever one you want,"

Iruka leaned down, examining the containers intently, as though he was searching for something specific. He glanced from one, to the other, to the other, and back to the first. A small sigh left Kakashi's lips after the forth attempt and he picked up a small carton of orange juice.

"How about this?" he helped out.

Iruka nodded, regardless of not knowing what it was.

Setting down two glasses, Kakashi turned to the young male with a soft smile that crinkled his eye. "Watch closely," he whispered, and slowly poured the juice into the glass.

Iruka stared, watching the orange liquid rise to the top, before the carton was handed to him.

"Your turn,"

Hesitantly taking the carton, he glanced down to the empty glass and slowly lowered the object. With a clumsy hand, the carton slipped from the edge of the glass, dropping a small puddle of juice onto the counter-top. Iruka froze, a small wince crossing his face, but he soon felt a pale hand take hold of his own, and lead it back towards the glass. The juice trickled into the cup, filling up to the top before the jounin set the carton down again.

A pale thumb stroked lightly along the bruised, tanned skin in a praising manner. Iruka watched his master's hand carefully, his own fingers twitching as he forced his hand to stay still and allow the contact.

"You did it," Kakashi praised, moving away his hand as he offered the man a bright smile.

Picking up the glass, he offered it to Iruka, who carefully grasped it.

Taking a small swig, he blinked at the strong taste, rolling the juice along his tongue to analyse the flavour. He lowered the glass to look inside, and as his tongue smeared across his lips, Kakashi noticed the smallest, faintest tug at the corner of his lips; the beginning of a smile.

x—

The strange events of the long day had taken its toll on Iruka, and Kakashi wasn't surprised when his exhaustion returned.

Iruka followed Kakashi up the stairs and into the bedroom. As he stepped into the doorway, he stopped and glanced around, taking in his surroundings. Kakashi opened the drawers, searching through folded piles of clothes for some pyjamas. He paused when he came across an old pair of grey ones, stealing a glance of Iruka to quickly examine his height. The slave's attention was elsewhere, staring at the window as though in a day dream.

"These ones should do," Kakashi caught his attention, as he unfolded the pyjamas. "You're sleeping here tonight," He pointed to the bed to let the man know exactly where he meant.

Iruka blinked, his eyes snapping to the bed where he noticed the same fluffy-looking pillow sat in front of the headboard. He looked back to Kakashi with a suspicious, knitted brow, attempting to see past the warm smile in the man's eye.

When the jounin approached him, he felt his muscles tense, unsure why he was being approached with such kindness. He had seen it before in Masaki's eyes; that smile, when his master would reward him with compassion he hadn't earned – a false blanket of security to lure him in, and then continue a previous event of punishment that he felt hadn't fit the crime before.

Kakashi stopped, sensing the sudden atmosphere.

"What's wrong?" he asked softly, trying to figure out what might have gone wrong from the journey from the kitchen to the bedroom. He stared at Iruka with a concerned eye, failing to understand.

He seemed fine only minutes ago, when Kakashi had offered him something to drink; what had changed?

He blinked, suddenly realising; the only time the slave seemed to have lowered his guard was around food and drink – the basic needs for survival. Kakashi's eye narrowed slightly, realising that the smile was merely a look of victory; today, he had been fed.

He obeyed Kakashi's every word to receive what he needed, even allowing the client to touch him, when only moments before in the shed, he had panicked and lost his temper.

It seemed only natural, that the slave would behave the way Kakashi wanted when there was something in it for him. There was no point feeling any emotion or offense towards it; it was the only way this man knew how to survive.

He opened out the pyjamas, revealing exactly what he had to clarify that they were all that were in his hands.

"Can you dress yourself?" he asked, trying to turn the subject and shift Iruka's attention, so that the slave knew that was all Kakashi wanted from him.

There was a look of hesitance as Iruka eyed the pyjamas and Kakashi sighed at his own stupidity, knowing already that he was not used to even wearing clothes.

"I'm going to help you dress into these," he explained, again, specifically, as he lifted the pyjamas. "So that when you go into bed," he pointed to the bed, "You'll feel much cleaner and comfier," Tilting his head slightly, he raised a silver brow almost pleadingly. "Will you come here please?"

Finally, the young male hesitantly stepped forth. Kakashi smiled behind his mask, pleased that he was finally getting somewhere. Placing the pyjamas down on the bed, he then slowly lifted his hands and pulled at the loose ends of rope tied around Iruka's waist. He untied the yukata and pulled the loose clothing over the man's head.

Goosebumps broke through the tanned skin as Iruka stood before him, completely naked, yet seeming not the slightest affected or embarrassed. Kakashi frowned, realising he was going to have to find some charity underwear tomorrow. He took a gentle hold of Iruka's hands and placed them onto his shoulders, before stretching out the pyjamas before the man's knees.

"Lift your foot,"

Iruka complied, using his master's frame for balance as the jounin slipped his feet into each hole, before puling them up and along his thighs.

Next, the night shirt. Kakashi inwardly groaned, unsure how he would approach the 'task' without the slave feeling nervous.

"Alright," he whispered, "Lift up your arms for me,"

Iruka lifted his arms, watching curiously as the pyjama shirt came pouring over his head. He remained still and quiet, yet Kakashi could see the muscles in his stomach tense at the vulnerable position. He quickly pulled it past his face, helping his arms into the sleeves before shifting the material around his hips.

"All done," he smiled, though it was one of self-relief.

He approached the bed and gave it a small pat, signalling for Iruka to come. Iruka obeyed, watching as the jounin pulled back the duvet and gave the mattress another pat.

"In here,"

Climbing onto the bed, Iruka then paused, his hands shifting around and patting the mattress as though he was searching for something. Kakashi let him take his time, as he had seen for himself what the slave was used to sleeping on. Finally, Iruka settled down, resting his head against the soft, warm pillow with a small, shuddered sigh.

A small smile formed on Kakashi's lips beneath his mask. He draped the covers over him, tucking in the edge to trap the warmth. Iruka fidgeted in the sheets, uncomfortable with the comfortable surroundings.

When Kakashi suddenly crouched down before him, he paused and blinked, unsure on how to react.

"Tomorrow," Kakashi murmured softly, "We'll figure out what happens from here."

Blinking in surprise, Iruka nodded weakly, unsure what his master meant, but willing to go along with it.

"Get some sleep," Kakashi smiled warmly.

Kakashi quickly stood up without another word, understanding that the slave may need some time alone to his thoughts; as far as Iruka was concerned, he had just been kidnapped from Masaki and forced into a new home. Suffocating him with the jounin's constant presence would only make things worse for now.

He turned off the lights and quickly adjusted the locks on the window to ensure they weren't loose, before leaving the room.

Iruka listened to the door closing, and the soft footsteps fading out along the hall. He closed his eyes and sunk his face into the pillow, welcomed by the soft, warm material. He was too tired to think, too exhausted to do anything but let his body rest, and his mind drift off into a deep sleep.

x—

Kakashi quietly circled the house, locking each window and door. Opening the airing cupboard, he pulled himself out a spare blanket and headed back downstairs.

The sofa wasn't exactly comfy, but he had slept in worse places. As he settled down, he gazed up at the ceiling, his mind recalling that long, deep scar stretched across the man's face.

_Tomorrow, I'll get him to talk. _


	2. Chapter 2

Under Masaki's regulations, every slave was permitted two slices of bread a day to keep them going, though such privilege depended on their behaviour throughout each day. It was always difficult meeting Masaki's standards of good behaviour, as their master expected so much from them that sometimes they hadn't the strength and energy to perform. The slightest cold that the average person caught every so often was always a frightening experience for every slave, as their immune systems were so low under the conditions and treatment they were living in. With little food given to build energy and warmth, lack of clothing or blankets to replace that warmth, and untreated beatings that were always prone to infections from the filth they were forced to live in; any form of illness was a chilling thought, as one could never be sure they would survive through it.

Sometimes the illnesses were partially treated, but whether it was an extra slice of bread or an injection to help fight off the bug all depended on how valuable they really were; if they were young, fit and had a certain quality, either in their features or their high level of obedience (which clients always preferred), then Masaki would pay more attention to keep those slaves alive, as they had so much more to offer.

In Iruka's case, he lacked a lot of those qualities; the long slit across his face was an immediate put-off to a lot of clients, and his untamable temper only made matters worse. Masaki had tried for years to train the slave with cruel punishments no human being could endure for long, but even after ten years passed, Iruka would not give in.

Masaki had never thought much on it or let it interfere with his pride, as he had learned throughout the years that a slave's main weakness was their food. Masaki was the key to food and to make Masaki angry only shredded their chances of receiving any. Iruka knew that, and while Masaki couldn't train Iruka to behave at a single hand sign, he could train him with the sight of food. The less food Iruka received, the more determined he was to behave and win Masaki over to receive more, and so, Iruka was given a single piece a day, depending on how well behaved he could be.

There was a strange tie between Masaki and Iruka that both master and slave had sensed throughout their time together. Masaki didn't hate the slave – in fact, Iruka was almost part of the furniture; he had lived in that shed for almost ten years, after all. He did, however, resent Iruka for the amount of trouble and losses the slave had caused him. Since the age of eleven, Masaki had tried and tried to sell him on, but the clients were either repulsed by his face or disgusted at his temper – which also gave Masaki the reputation that he had no control over his slaves. But even so, Masaki had never simply killed him as he had done with other troublesome slaves. It was never thoroughly examined why Masaki had allowed him to survive, though one could guess that perhaps it was because Masaki was the only person in this would who had the opportunity to watch Iruka grow from a young child into a man. Perhaps there was some pride there, to see this slave every day as his 'creation.'

x—

_Shaking hands carefully peeled back the loose floorboard. Long, shuddered breaths of air drowned the silence in the room as those trembling hands dipped into the dusty hole, fingers blindly searching in the darkness for the prize stored down there. Finally finding it, Iruka collected the small portion of bread clumps, each piece crisped like toast with mold growing at its edges. _

_In the dark shed, he could barely see his prize, but he could feel them in his hands, covered in dust from days of lying there. He wiped them down with his hands and then shoved the clumps of bread into his mouth, humming quietly as he savoured every second for the sake of his excitement. He rolled his tongue along the food, taking every ounce of flavour he could get. It was his secret stash; a small corner saved daily from each slice to make up an entire loafs worth - to soothe when his hunger became unbearable. _

_And it was working. He could feel the mouthfuls of chewed bread fall into his stomach, resulting in a violent rumble from deep within his gut in acceptance of the generous offer._

_The chains suddenly rattled just outside the shed, signaling someone unlocking the bolts at the door. Iruka's wide, brown eyes snapped over to the shadowed door, both confused and panicked as it was unusual to be bothered in the middle of the night – the time Iruka always chose to pick at his stash when he was certain he was alone. He regretfully swallowed the food whole, wishing he could have a couple more minutes to taste it, but knowing it would result in drastic consequences. He blindly forced the wooden board back into the floor, fighting with it as he couldn't see the correct angle in the dark. The door suddenly swung open and Iruka threw himself over the floorboard, covering the evidence with his stomach while burying his face into his arms, giving the illusion that he had been sleeping. _

_Iruka's eyes daringly lifted with a tired expression to see a shadowed figure enter his shed. The slight wobble in the figure's walk told him it was Masaki, holding what looked like a long shovel over his shoulder. Iruka's eyes locked onto the object intently, a familiar cloud of fear raining over him as he came to the only assumption he could grasp that his time may now be up. _

_His entire body froze, unable to understand where this had come from, what he had done wrong to really deserve this, but he knew too well that Masaki was highly unpredictable at times. He wasn't prepared for this though; he had been busy wasting hours waiting for the coast to clear so he could get to his stash, that he hadn't had any sleep to regain energy – to protect himself. _

_The metal spade was abruptly dropped to the floor and Masaki then approached, kneeling down before the slave to unlock the chains around each of his limbs. Iruka stayed frozen on the floor, hardly able to believe what was happening, that Masaki was finally ready to let him go. _

"_Up." his master demanded in a quiet but firm tone. _

_The hesitant slave didn't move, but gazed up at his master with pleading eyes, seeing no other way out but to beg for his life. Sighing, Masaki grabbed the slave's thin, tanned arm and jerked him to his feet. A loud scream was cut off with a strong hand and Iruka's impulsive sobs were muffled into his fingers as he was dragged to the door, the fat man picking up the shovel on the way out. Brown strands whipped Masaki's face as the slave shook his head, begging through his cries for one last chance. _

_He was thrown to the floor outside the sheds where his face landed into something… cold. Hands clasped the stony grounds as Iruka lifted his head, seeing through the dim light attached to the wall outside the sheds that he was face to face with another slave. This slave was cold as ice, pale as snow and very still. He was dead. _

_Before having the chance to react, that strong, clammy hand returned to his mouth as Masaki knelt beside him, his dark eyes piercing through Iruka's with a warning glare. _

"_He's dead." his master confirmed, triggering reality into Iruka's panic-stricken mind that it wasn't his turn to die. A long, broken sigh of relief was muffled into his master's hand, thinking of himself before the other slave, as in Masaki's sheds, it was every slave for themselves. "You and I are the only ones who know about it, understood?" _

_If word got around that one of Masaki's slaves had died due to an untreated virus, the clients would disappear completely from the disease-filled market. _

_Iruka's nod was weak but sure, knowing that in the middle of the night, with pitch black surroundings and a master with a vital weapon, he had no choice but to comply. _

_Masaki placed a finger to his own lips, signaling Iruka to keep quiet as he slowly withdrew his hand from the slave's mouth._

"_Pick it up." Masaki whispered, pointing to the corpse. _

_Iruka crawled towards the cold body, feeling the muscles in his throat clench in preparation to vomit at the revolting smell he had noticed earlier in the day. He slid his arm underneath the dead slave's chest, attempting to hold his breath as long as he could stand as he pulled the corpse towards him. _

_Masaki swung the shovel over his shoulder again, standing to his feet. "Into the field." _

_For a starved male with barely any muscle, the weight of the slave was excruciating. Iruka scrunched his eyes closed and gritted his teeth as he forced the cold body over his shoulder, and slowly made his way to his feet; thankful for those few clumps of bread that had given him a little more energy, and Masaki's oblivion to the loose floorboard that could have had him buried on top of the corpse. _

_Straining his muscles with all he had, Iruka then walked beside Masaki, feeling the cold breeze of wind stroke across his naked body that sent a deep shiver along his spine. He blinked thickly to keep the drowsiness away, following Masaki's directions until he was ordered to stop in the middle of the dark field, surrounded by pitch black trees. _

_When ordered, Iruka dropped the heavy corpse onto the ground, having little energy to offer a more graceful fall. He let out a breath of relief, feeling the muscles in his shoulder and arm throb from the sudden lifted weight. The shovel was then handed to him and he took it, his eyes glancing weakly to the pale, dead face staring up at the sky. He had learned long ago not to let his emotions take over – otherwise he would more than likely be punished for wasting too much time. _

_He pushed the edge of the shovel into the soil, his teeth gritting tightly together as he felt the sharp metal dig into the bottom of his foot when stepping down on it. He cursed the chains that denied him enough room to work properly, the darkness that blinded his angles of digging, and the cold air taunting his prickled, cold skin. Pushing down against the long, metal stick, he brought the plate back to the surface and chucked the pile of soil to one side._

_He had dug half of the intended grave before finally reaching his limit, and now, he could only lean against the metal pole in exhaustion while panting for air. _

_Rolling his eyes, Masaki snatched the tool from him and muttered out his irritation while finishing the useless slave's job. Iruka stole a couple of steps back to lean against the closest tree, trying to regain some energy. _

_That horrid smell surrounded the area of the field, the same smell that had leaked through Iruka's shed the day before, yet no one had taken much time to notice, already accepting of the stench that constantly lingered around those sheds._

_Iruka's attention was snatched when Masaki finally rose to his feet in a tired state, and slammed the shovel into the soil. With a couple of breaths for air, his master then crouched down and took hold of the dead male's wrist, tugging it across the soil before rolling the slave into the large hole. The corpse hit the moist dirt with a small thud. Iruka watched as Masaki began to drag the thick pile of soil along the ground, letting it fall into the ditch and bury the man. _

_Iruka lifted his head slightly to take a glance of the slave's face, knowing as well as all the other slaves locked in those sheds that the virus could have taken any of them. Of course, while in Masaki's hands, the best way to survive was to prioritize their own lives above others, but that didn't mean the slaves couldn't acknowledge each other's pain, as they all understood it too clearly._

_A large portion of soil fell into the ditch and covered the last of the man's face. Iruka watched the last piece of flesh disappear, before averting his eyes. There, he caught sight of the abandoned shovel still embedded into the ground; his master's back turned to it as the fat man continued filling up the ditch. Iruka blinked his wide eyes in disbelief at the key to his freedom dangling right before his eyes. His stomach churned with doubt, unsure if it was intentional bait to lure him into another one of Masaki's games, but from the look in his master's face, and the irritated grunts leaving his lips, it seemed even Masaki was in no mood for games tonight. He could hear small pants from Masaki, a sign that he too was tired – perhaps too tired to even notice that he'd left a weapon unattended, yet tired enough to give Iruka a chance of outrunning him. _

_The attempt of escape was strictly forbidden – Iruka had learned that at an early age when one of the slaves had risked the attempt and was left to starve while chained to the large poles on the field. Anyone who attempted was made an example of this way, to scare the other slaves and dare them to try and cross the field. It was advice Iruka had wisely followed, until now…_

_He had an advantage now, and a weapon. He took a careful, quiet step towards the shovel, his brown eyes fixed intently on Masaki as his fingers wrapped around the long metal stick. He pulled, forcing the plate to rip from the soil as his master's eyes shot up in startle. Wide and focused, Masaki's eyes stared into the slave, a daring challenge flashing, though his panic was shown too, knowing too well of Iruka's uncontrollable temper. _

_Fear ripped through Iruka's heart, but he had no time to act on it as his arms automatically swung down, thrusting the heavy metal plate through the air. Masaki's head hunched down in instinctive reaction to protect his face, guiding Iruka's sloppy aim to his shoulder where the sharp metal cut severely into the skin._

_A deep, pained shriek echoed around the forest and before Iruka knew it, the heavy shovel had slipped from his hands, and he was running for his life._

_He could feel the tree roots digging into his bleeding feet as he ran, his arms swinging back and forth to cut through the air and push himself deeper into the field. He could hear his master's screaming demands for him to 'get the fuck back here now,' sending his heart pounding inside his chest with knowledge that the blow hadn't been hard enough to keep him down for long._

_He should have known that he wasn't strong enough to control the weight of the shovel accurately, but just the chance of freedom had tormented his courage, knowing that the chance may never come again. Now, as he heard the faint grunts behind him, he knew that Masaki was catching up faster than he had imagined – that he wasn't as tired as Iruka had thought, or that he himself as just too tired. He stopped trying to decide which, focusing instead on which direction to turn._

_Regret quickly washed through his thin cloud of hope, half wishing he could fall to his knees and surrender to spare himself the terrifying probability of being caught, but he knew that mercy was not one of his master's qualities; he had no choice but to get out of here. He forced his muscles to their limit, as his eyes darted around him in search of a dark hiding place. _

_A sudden, sharp pain split through the back of his thigh as Masaki's pocket-knife was lodged into the tired muscle. Iruka screamed in both terror and agony as he collapsed into the dirt. _

x—

Kakashi's eye snapped open as a sudden, loud _bang_ jolted him from his sleep. He immediately rolled off the sofa, snatching a kunai from under his pillow while landing gracefully on his feet. The room was dark and silent with not a flicker of chakra detected, but memory then triggered and he glanced up at the ceiling with a wide, startled eye, quickly predicting the next inevitable escape attempt via the window.

Without a seconds thought, the jounin dropped his kunai to the sofa and ran up the stairs. He paused when he reached the door, eye narrowing in concern at the hysterical sounds of heavy panting coming from inside the bedroom. Very slowly, he pulled down the door handle, not wanting to startle the man anymore than he already seemed.

He had expected to see the slave surrounded by sharp shards of glass from the window, or his side lamp gripped in his hand as either a weapon to break the window, or attempt to break Kakashi's nose; after what the jounin had seen earlier, when Iruka had tried to rip away at his throat with his teeth, he wouldn't have been surprised. He did not, however, expect to see the slave's shadowed figure lying on the floor between the bed and set of drawers, clawing at the tangled blanket trapped around his ankles.

Kakashi immediately stepped into the room and leaned down slightly to take a look at the man's face; from the strange position the young slave was lying in, and the faint wriggling that wedged him deeper into that narrow space, the jounin quickly assumed that the man was still asleep. He stepped closer, finally making out the man's face in the faint strip of light from the window; his eyes were still closed, but his dark brows were knitted so deep there was thick lines crinkling his forehead. He looked distressed as he fidgeted in the blanket, signaling Kakashi with the clearest assumption that he was also trapped inside the dream he seemed to be having. In the faint shimmer of moonlight, he could see a glistening damp line along his cheek – the first sign of humanity he had seen from the man, even if it was just a single tear.

With a small sigh, Kakashi knelt down beside the man, careful to be very quiet; it was Iruka's first night here, after all, and startling him out of his sleep may alarm the confused slave with new surroundings. He lowered a hesitant hand to Iruka's shoulder and, with his other hand, used his pale knuckles to stroke softly along the brunette's cheek.

"Sai-kun?" he whispered, listening as the hitched breaths calmed a little, the slave's grip on the blanket loosening slightly at the solid voice trickling into his ears. "Can you hear me? Come on, wake up,"

He gave the slave's shoulder a little shake, before gently guiding the man's frame up into a sitting position against the bed. Iruka slurred in his sleep, brown eyes eventually fluttering open to see a masked face before him he couldn't quite place. Stealing a glance of the room, he flinched in panic at his new surroundings. Kakashi placed his hand on the other shoulder in an attempt to calm him.

"It's alright," Kakashi whispered. "You were dreaming, and you fell out of bed,"

Watering brown eyes gazed around the room to confirm where he was, before he glanced up at Kakashi, reality finally sinking in.

Kakashi settled down on his knees, raising a soft, silver brow in concern. "Do you want to tell me about it?"

Hesitation twitched in the slave's face and Kakashi's eye widened when the younger man parted his lips, oblivious to his master's breath catching in his throat in anticipation, but all that came out was a long, shaky breath. Kakashi hid his disappointment well, knowing that he couldn't force the man to talk until he was ready. His eye snapped away, catching sight of the blanket and he let out a weak, breathless chuckle.

"Maa, you've got yourself all tangled up!" he chirped, attempting to lighten the atmosphere, as he pointed to said blanket coiled around and between the slave's ankles. He carefully untangled the blanket from Iruka's legs and spread them for the sake of the slave's space. "There we go," he smiled, as though he was talking to a child.

Iruka lifted a hand to wipe his damp face, averting Kakashi's eye to the dark eye bags he hadn't noticed properly before.

"Shall we get you back into bed?" He patted the mattress, and Iruka nodded weakly, closing his eyes in his still-exhausted state.

Kakashi helped him to his feet, careful not to touch the slave too much to spare him from discomfort. He settled Iruka back down on the mattress, noticing the man's fingers clutch to the sheets as the only little defense he had in this situation. The jounin sighed and pulled the covers back over him, knowing that the slave was just frightened of the change; it would take some time to get used to.

Iruka went out again like a light, spread out against the mattress while Kakashi was still arranging the blanket. It was then the jounin realised that Iruka wouldn't have been able to escape if he wanted to; being locked up in so little space for so long would surely have an affect on his stamina. He mentally reminded himself, if that was the case, that Iruka would need to sleep a couple more hours than the average civilian, which would probably fit best to take on afternoon naps to regain more energy.

He smiled sadly as he watched the sleeping man, that familiar sting of pity awakening in his chest at the horrors this slave must have seen, that they would taunt him in the night like this. Ever-so-gently, he ran his fingers through the chocolate stands to keep the man calm, or perhaps help him see that he was in safe hands now.

With one last caress of his hair, Kakashi stood up and left the room, positioning the door perfectly to have a strip of light glow against Iruka's face, for some form of comfort, as a child was soothed when afraid of the dark.

He fell back against the sofa with a deep sigh, then glanced up at the lock that read 5am. It was too late to go back to sleep, yet too early to get up.

_I don't think I could go back to sleep if I tried, _he thought, glancing up at the ceiling as though he was waiting for the incident to occur again, and if it did, he needed to be alert.

The clock ticked slowly. Kakashi glanced over to the black bag sat in the corner of the room, beside the radiator that held the thick chain attached to it. Sighing, he jumped to his feet and went to pick it up. He turned it upside down, emptying the contents to reveal a small pile of stained, ruined clothes with wide rips visible. Kakashi frowned at the 'charity,' feeling a sting of annoyance at Masaki, though the guilt soaked through for Iruka. He wasn't letting the man wear those rags. He shoved the pile of crap back into the bag and emptied it into the kitchen bin. He'd have to find something for Iruka to wear for now – he was sure he had some old civilian clothing he could pass on, and then buy some more tomorrow.

_And leave Iruka here?_

He glanced around the room with a wince, not liking that idea. But taking him out? He wasn't sure how Iruka would react – the slave had been on his own for so long; how would he react around other people? Around crowds of people?

He contemplated sneaking out now to see if any stores were open, but the thought of not being here if Iruka woke up again frightened him, as the home of a shinobi was no safe place for someone like Iruka.

He sighed again and sat down on the sofa, thinking through his strategy.

x—

Iruka's eyes slowly opened to the morning light that peeped through the gap between the curtains. He stared tiredly into space as he noticed the hot warmth surrounding him, the soft blankets cocooning his form and trapping in his body heat, and the cushioned mattress beneath him that soothed his muscles far greater than the wooden floor in his shed had ever done. He closed his eyes and turned his head, burying his face into the pillow to savour the wonderful warmth. A small sigh left his lips, content and pleasured by the surroundings he had often imagined being inside during winter nights.

He fell back to sleep for a couple of minutes, until a strange smell made its way through the door that alerted his senses faster than a cold shower - something that tickled his appetite and sent a low growl to his stomach. He blinked over to the door, barely noticing the noises downstairs until he heard the sound of metal clinking together, and that burning smell became thicker.

Unable to contain his curiosity, Iruka carefully slipped out from the sheets and slowly approached the half-open door, brown eyes peaking through the small gap at the stairway. Something popped downstairs, resulting in more of that burning smell to make its way up the stairs. Iruka shifted eagerly on his feet, knowing exactly what his new master was doing. He settled himself down in the doorway, listening intently to the sounds, concentrating on the smell and hoping his new master wouldn't forget he was up here… that he would feed him.

Five minutes passed, through it seemed like hours to Iruka, when he heard footsteps on the stairs. Eyes wide, Iruka turned and scurried back into the bedroom on all fours, and then glanced up to see Kakashi standing in the doorway, dressed in the same uniform as yesterday and gazing down at him with a raised silver brow.

"Maa, how long have you been awake?" Kakashi asked, using a gentle tone and soft smile in his eye to ensure the slave knew he'd done nothing wrong.

Iruka just blinked, having genuinely no idea what answer was expected from him.

Finally, Kakashi sighed and crouched down slightly to the man's level, his eye arching once more into a familiar dorky smile. "When you wake up, you can stay here, or come downstairs – the choice is yours to make." He chose his words carefully, wanting to give Iruka the reassurance that he could choose – that he had some control in this situation. "I've made some breakfast for you – would you like to come down and eat?"

There was barely a flicker of hesitation there, as the young slave nodded firmly that he wanted some food. It didn't surprise Kakashi the slightest, as he knew of the man's relationship with food, and that he would do possibly anything to get it. While it tore his heart with pity, it also made things easier, because while Masaki used food as a weapon, Kakashi could use food as a way of reassurance – to help Iruka see that there was really no need to be afraid, because he would never go hungry as long as he was here.

The young slave rose to his feet, hands twisted in his pyjama shirt, and followed after the jounin.

He sat down at the table as requested, while Kakashi prepared the breakfast. A glass of orange juice was placed down before him and Iruka drank it without hesitation, remembering the simple method of using the glass properly. He let out a sigh of content, rolling the taste along his tongue as his master then set a plate down before him, containing two slices of buttered toast.

Kakashi had spent a while searching through his kitchen for something most appropriate – something Iruka could eat with his hands without burning himself or getting into too much of a mess, and came to the simple solution of toast. He turned away as Iruka bit into the slice, seeming unaffected by the warm butter that soaked over and in between his fingers, dripping down his hands. He was enjoying his meal, and that was enough comfort for Kakashi.

Once his own toast was cooked, Kakashi sat down opposite Iruka and, as he glanced up, his eye widened to see a huge bulge poking out from each of Iruka's cheeks – apparently an entire slice of bread forced into his mouth.

"Slow down," Kakashi whispered, receiving a clueless blink from the slave. "No one's going to take it from you."

Again, he recognized the signs of survival; shoving an entire piece of bread into your mouth and swallowing it as quickly and whole as you possibly can, would surely prevent your master from snatching the prize back in the name of fun – or at least make it a lot more difficult. Still, there would be no food games in this house, and Iruka would learn that in time.

Iruka's eyes averted nervously and he began to chew, though Kakashi could see the slave watching him in the corner of his eye, his attention solely on his master and the plate. By the time Iruka looked up again, Kakashi's food was gone, and the jounin was watching him curiously with a raised silver brow.

"May I ask you a question?" his master then asked, keeping the tone soft with genuine curiosity, rather than demanding.

Iruka blinked again, and Kakashi soon noticed the faster movements in the man's jaw as he chewed, as though he'd been threatened with a catch to the prize.

"How old are you, Sai-kun?"

The question took Iruka by surprise and he froze, staring at Kakashi with wide eyes, while that lump of bread returned to one cheek. Kakashi watched him carefully, unsure if he'd gone too far. He didn't want to force the man to talk, though by the look in Iruka's face, it seemed he didn't even know the answer himself. Judging on his appearance, Kakashi guessed the man to be in his early twenties, though whether Iruka knew that was beyond him.

"Do you remember much from before?" he asked, testing the waters. "Friends? Family?"

A glare shot his way and Iruka shoved the remaining piece of bread into his mouth, refusing to fall for that game. His master should have held onto the food as blackmail if he really expected him to answer that, he thought with a sense of victory.

Kakashi immediately backed off, giving Iruka some space before things got a little too heated. If Iruka lost his temper, he would need to find a way to control him, which he really didn't want to do. He wanted to build some trust between them, which meant he also needed to respect Iruka's privacy anyway.

He stood up from the table and took his plate to the sink to wash it. Once setting it to dry, he figured that was enough time to try again with the slave, and turned to see Iruka's tongue smear across his plate, lapping up the drops of butter juice. Once realizing he was being watched, Iruka's head snapped away from it, wide eyes staring up at his master.

Kakashi sighed. "A plate counts as a bowl, Sai-kun," he extended his hand towards the man. "Can I have the plate?"

Iruka's brows knitted, confusion washing over his face. He had gotten away with it? After the first warning? He looked down at the plate in his hands, then back to his master. Something flashed through his eye and Kakashi blinked, astonished when the slave suddenly cradled the plate to his chest, wrapping his arms tightly around it, and looked back to the jounin with the most stubborn face.

Kakashi thought he had seen it all, but never before had he met a slave as complicated and _stubborn_ as this one. Was this about the questions he asked?

_No,_ Kakashi frowned as the slave's brows knitted deeper. _He's testing me._

He wanted to see what Kakashi would do – perhaps to test his boundaries.

_Or trying to learn his place, _Kakashi thought, comparing the man to the one animal specie he knew most – a dog.

If that was the case, then he needed to teach Iruka the rules.

_I'd rather he just kept the plate though, _he solemnly thought, not wanting to have to confront this situation so soon, but it needed to be done. This man seemed to survive through his instincts, meaning he was more like an… animal, than a human being… something Kakashi wanted to change. What was the best way to deal with this without threatening Iruka's sense of security? He was sure that if Masaki was in his position, Iruka would have received a beating by now, but there was no way Kakashi was going to hurt him.

Folding his arms, the jounin raised a silver brow in expectance. "Alright," he said firmly. "I'm going to count to three,"

Iruka put on his best motivated face.

"…And if that plate isn't in my hand," _err…_ "I'm putting you in the _naughty spot._" Kakashi nodded firmly with a stern eye.

Iruka blinked, all look of determination washing away. _The what?_

"One,"

Iruka glared at him.

"Two,"

His grip tightened around the plate.

"Three."

In the blink of an eye, Kakashi had snatched the plate from the man's hands and set it down nicely on the table. He then wrapped his arms around Iruka's waist, ignoring the look of panic in the slave's eyes as he casually lifted the man over his shoulder. Iruka struggled slightly, though genuinely curious as to where this was going; he needed to know what his limits were – what he could and couldn't get away with. He was carried through the kitchen and into the living room, the jounin swiping a cushion from the sofa on the way, before he sat Iruka down on it in the corner of the room beside the door. Iruka's eyes darted between Kakashi's busy hands as one gently grabbed his wrist; the other taking hold of the loose cuff attached to the radiator, which was then locked around the slave's wrist.

Without another word, his master than stood up and left the room without another word, not looking at Iruka once as he disappeared into the kitchen. Iruka stared at the open doorway, completely confused and… astonished at the reaction.

There was no beating, no threat, nothing.

Half an hour passed by, as Iruka listened to Kakashi cleaning up in the kitchen. His master hadn't spoken to him the entire time, or even looked at him. Finally, he heard footsteps approach the room and glanced up to see the jounin walk straight past him to pick up his orange book from the sofa, before he returned to the kitchen once more, leaving Iruka completely unacknowledged.

Iruka scowled at the doorway, his temper rising at the situation. He had endured worse than this. He had been chained up in a shed for years and beaten more times than he had eaten. He had suffered worse before – this shouldn't be bothering him… so why did it?

The jounin confused him – that was it. He hadn't laid a finger on Iruka. He had been fed unconditionally and rewarded a prized bed to sleep in. His movements were gentle and almost friendly. Iruka glared weakly at the kitchen door, eyes twinkling with deep confusion. What was it about this man that Masaki was so afraid of?

It wasn't long before Kakashi returned to the living room, nose buried in his book and _still_ ignoring Iruka as he casually sat down on the sofa. Iruka watched him with no subtlety, trying to understand the man but receiving no answers.

After another ten minutes, Kakashi decided the punishment had gone off long enough, and he stood up from the sofa, snapping his book closed. Iruka's eyes locked on to him as he approached, the jounin _finally_ looking into his eyes.

Kakashi crouched down in front of him, mirroring the man's level as to give off no sign of threat. "We've already wasted most of the morning now because you decided to be rude to me," he explained, choosing every word carefully as he had mentally rehearsed in the kitchen.

Iruka blinked, catching the word 'rude' as though he'd never heard the word before.

"Now, we're going to get you dressed, so we can go outside," Kakashi pointed to the door. "And buy you some new clothes, understand?" His eye then suddenly arched into a soft smile, to Iruka's notice, all offense towards his 'rudeness' apparently vanished.

The chain was unlocked from his wrist, left to dangle from the radiator to use again if needed. Kakashi helped Iruka to his feet, led him back upstairs and into the bedroom.

Sitting Iruka down on the bed, Kakashi then opened up the closet and began searching through the hanging clothes for something that would fit. Iruka's eyes never left the man, still caught up in the incident downstairs and unsure if and why it had just been dropped as nothing.

A flash of white caught his attention from the closet and he glanced up to see a white mask settled down on top of one of the closet-drawers, sat upon a pile of black clothing. The closet was abruptly closed, concealing the sight and he looked up at Kakashi, barely catching the concerned look in the jounin's eye as it was quickly replaced with another smile.

"I'll buy you some of these today, as well," his master announced, and Iruka looked at the man's hands to see the same material the jounin had dressed underneath his pyjamas last night.

He nodded in understanding and stood to his feet, hesitantly pulling down his pyjama bottoms and allowing Kakashi to help him into the new underwear.

Dressed in light grey bottoms and a white shirt, which was decorated with a leaf symbol printed in the middle, Iruka watched as Kakashi searched through the bottom of his closet for some spare footwear. Finally finding something that would fit best, he helped the slave into a pair of plain flip flops.

x—

He led Iruka through the corners of the village, not wanting the slave to be seen by too many; he wasn't sure how the man would cope with too many people around, and what made matters more difficult was the fact that Konoha was full of strangely-behaved characters, who would more than likely scare Iruka to death with their over-friendly greetings.

Iruka stayed by Kakashi's side, following the man while staring up at the tall buildings surrounding them with wide, fascinated eyes. A footstep out of sync from the strange footwear caused him to trip every so often and he glared at them in irritation.

His attention was snatched when Kakashi took a gentle hold of his wrist and pulled him around the corner, stopping at the end of the alley. Iruka stared into the distance, watching the large amount of individuals pass by with their busy days.

Kakashi had been thinking over his strategy as they walked, figuring out how he would be able to keep Iruka under control once they entered the busy village. He knew it wasn't Iruka's fault – the man had lived in solitary for years, knowing nothing but loneliness, and suddenly being exposed to a large crowd of people could seriously backfire. Kakashi knew that if something startled or frightened him, or worse, made him feel threatened or angry, he would have a hard time controlling the slave without causing a theatrical scene, which would no doubt get back to the Hokage. Still, if Iruka wanted a proper chance at life, then they needed to start somewhere, and Kakashi needed to guide him.

With one hand still firmly grasped around Iruka's wrist, he pointed with his other hand to the building opposite them. His heart stung again with guilt as he prepared his words, not wanting to be cruel, but seeing no other way. He needed to remember that this man survived on his instincts – he took what he needed to survive and fought when he needed to fight. That was all he knew. Simply asking Iruka to behave would not get them anywhere because Iruka didn't know how to behave like a human.

"We're going in there to find you some clothes,"

Iruka nodded in understanding, studying the building across the large pathway.

His eyes widened in startle when the jounin shifted, turning to face him completely with a sudden stern eye.

"Now listen to me carefully. If you pick something up, when you're finished looking, I want you to _put it back_ where you found it. If you like what you've picked up and would like me to buy it, bring it to me – understand?"

Iruka blinked, nodding weakly at his orders.

Kakashi's silver brow rose in authority. "If you're rude to me again or fail to listen to my instructions, you'll be back in the naughty spot until lunch time. Understand?"

Brown eyes snapped up with a fierce scowl and Kakashi felt the fine bones beneath the man's wrist shift as Iruka clenched his fist in anger, but it soon relaxed again, knowing that he had little choice but to obey. Iruka gave a small nod, glaring at the ground with a very tense jaw, as though he was trying to conceal his anger to win over his lunch.

It was then that Kakashi realised his first mistake; he shouldn't have associated food with a punishment – it was just asking for trouble. Although he'd tried to make it clear that Iruka would be able to eat no matter what, the mention of food stated in a negative way had kicked up his instincts, perhaps because he knew as well as Kakashi did, that anything that went into his mouth was under Kakashi's control.

Sighing, he gave the man's wrist a gentle squeeze. "Sai, I would never deny you food," He tilted his head slightly to meet the man's eyes. "Ever."

Iruka averted his gaze back to the village and nodded once more. Kakashi sighed again, deciding to drop the issue and deal with it later at home, where he could prove his promise with a bowl of ramen. He tugged the man's wrist and led him out into the open village. "Stay close," he whispered, keeping a firm hold on his wrist in fear of losing the man. He had to admit, he was nervous; nervous of Iruka panicking, of something going wrong. But Iruka merely followed beside him, staring up at the building with curious eyes.

He opened the door and led Iruka inside, the brunette immediately lifting his sleeve to his nose to block out the strong smell of fabric conditioner that attacked his nostrils. Kakashi smirked, releasing his wrist and placing a warm hand on the man's back as they approached the male section of the shop.

He stopped and looked around, Iruka mirroring his actions as he stared at the small collection of people wandering around.

Kakashi leaned down slightly to meet the man's eyes. "Go and have a look around and find something you might like – but stay where I can see you, okay?"

Nodding, Iruka wandered off down the aisle, unaware of the jounin's eye watching his every step whilst looking through racks of clothing. At first, Iruka seemed to just walk around with a clueless gaze, staring up at the speakers that were reporting someone to customer service. Kakashi left him to his exploring, figuring he could find some things himself and see what Iruka thought of them.

It was when a random male civilian made his way down Iruka's aisle that Kakashi's hand froze on the coat hangers, his eye watching nervously, almost protectively. Iruka stared at the male with no subtlety whatsoever, finding it… strange to have someone in his presence whose attention was not on him, deciding on whether he was fit for buying. Kakashi knew that the only time Iruka was in contact with another person, it was out of business, and so the jounin didn't move from his spot, somewhat curious to see how Iruka would react, yet also nervous that he could react badly.

But Iruka remained calm, watching the man shuffle through a row of shirts in search for an appropriate size. Satisfied, the man picked out a black shirt and continued down the aisle. He seemed aware of Iruka's attention on him, yet choosing to ignore the obvious stare, which Kakashi was thankful for. The jounin let out a small sigh of relief, and his breath caught in his throat when Iruka approached the row of shirts the male had previously been searching through, picked one out for himself, looked around for Kakashi, and then ran towards him.

_He's learning…_ Kakashi blinked his wide eye as the brunette stopped in front of him and handed over the shirt. Kakashi took it, peeling back the collar label with a soft smile slipping past his lips. He glanced back to Iruka, noticing the first proud, _real_ smile on the man's face, that he had been given the smallest of choices in his life, but still a choice.

Kakashi's eye crinkled happily. "You want this one?"

Iruka nodded, small smile still curled on his lips.

"Alright," Kakashi nodded. "Do you want to go and look for something else?"

Iruka wandered back down the aisle, evidently more eager than before to search for something. Kakashi knew the man didn't really care what he was looking for, but it was _him_ deciding, and that was all that mattered. Still smiling, the jounin made his way to another section, passing the shirt aisle as he subtly replaced the shirt from XL to a size more appropriate.

x—

Opening the door, Kakashi motioned for Iruka to enter first. The young male stepped into the doorway with his shopping bag and walked on, but stopped when a pale hand took his wrist in time. He turned with a questioning glance.

"Shoes." Kakashi chirped with a dorky smile.

Iruka wrinkled his nose and glanced down at his feet.

Kakashi chuckled. "Shoes come off here," he explained, pointing to the floor.

Iruka's mouth opened with a silent 'oh' and he kicked off his footwear, before entering the main part of the building. Upon entering the living room, he caught glance of the chain attached to the radiator and stopped in his tracks, unsure if he had fulfilled his master's instructions. A warm hand rested on his shoulder and he glanced up to see his master gazing down at him, a bright smile twinkling in his eye.

"You did good today, Sai-kun," he announced, gently taking the shopping bag from Iruka's hand and placing all three bags on the sofa. "Shall we have some lunch now?"

Eyes wide, Iruka smiled brightly and ran into the kitchen, waiting for him like an excited pup at its food bowl. Kakashi blinked at the new aura, amazed that in such short amount of time, he'd managed to break through one of the barriers and see Iruka's smile. He glanced over to the radiator, eyeing the chain with a small wince.

_Did he really think I wouldn't feed him?_

x—

Kakashi made soup this time, figuring it was important to deliver a healthy balanced diet, and of course, experiment with Iruka's tastes and see what he enjoyed best. It was a struggle at first to help position the spoon in Iruka's hand and guide it towards his mouth. It was an even more struggle convincing him that throwing his face into the bowl was not an appropriate way to eat. But eventually, he'd managed to teach the slave to feed himself – to the best extent he could. There was a large puddle of soup spilling from the table and onto the floor, but Kakashi ignored it, deciding to clean it later and let the man enjoy his food. There was also a brownish stain on Iruka's white shirt, but again, Kakashi refrained from giving it attention, knowing that the slave was trying his best.

Iruka's shaking hands slowly brought the spoon to his mouth, trickling drops of soup onto his lap as he did so. His face was decorated with blotches of soup from where he'd missed his mouth, but that didn't seem to stop him enjoying the new taste.

Kakashi ate behind his book, leaving the man to it while following along to his story. He glanced up every now and then to ensure all was okay, but so far, Iruka seemed to be doing an alright job.

Inevitably, the slave became too confident with his new skill, his hand moving too fast and nudging the bowl, causing it to tip over. Kakashi's eye widened in alert at the loud smash as the bowl hit the floor and he quickly lowered his book. His chair legs screeched against the floor as he abruptly stood up to examine the situation, but his fast actions panicked the slave, causing him to catch his foot on the chair leg in an attempt of fleeing, and fall to the floor.

Kakashi made no hesitation to quickly step forth and ensure the slave was alright, but stopped when those brown eyes snapped up at him in fear, and Iruka's body tensed, expecting the jounin to strike.

Instinctively, Kakashi lifted his hands in a surrendering manner, wanting to show little threat as possible. "It's alright, it's only a bowl – I'm not angry with you," his words were rushed and full of panic as his eyes quickly darted around the floor, searching for the shattered shards of porcelain. From what he could see, none of it had touched the man.

"Are you alright?" he asked, still concerned, yet not daring to move any closer just yet.

Iruka nodded weakly, brown eyes flashing to the soup on the floor, and back to Kakashi with an almost pleading expression, wanting another chance to eat.

"Can I check you're alright first?" Kakashi reasoned with a soft brow, sensing what the man was thinking. "Then I'll find you something else to eat,"

When permission was given – either willingly or just out of hunger - Kakashi carefully approached the man and helped him to his feet. Kneeling down, he gently turned Iruka and lifted the man's shirt to check his lower back where he had fallen. He froze, and then lifted the shirt higher, silver brows knitting into a deep frown as he observed the thick, deep creases decorated over Iruka's back, each crease painted white. He found himself following a long line stretched across the man's tense back and connected to other lines, flaring out into the look of a crazy spider's web.

He'd never noticed before, probably because the only time he really looked at Iruka's body, he was dressing the man and standing in front of him. His eye snapped up at Iruka, unsure whether to be surprised or disgusted that the slave didn't react to his discovery whatsoever, as though he was oblivious to the scars even being there. A tight glare flashed through Kakashi's eye, his real hatred for Masaki suddenly fresh.

Iruka looked at him after a moment, confused at the silence. Noticing the gaze, Kakashi lowered the man's shirt and forced back his emotions, instead, averting his attention to the patch of red shaded over the man's hip. Lifting a hand, Kakashi then froze and met Iruka's eyes.

"Can I touch you?" he whispered.

Iruka frowned, finding the question absurd but giving permission anyway with another nod. Offering a small smile, Kakashi placed his hand over the warm dark skin, pressing slightly to feel for any damage behind the flesh. He stopped when the slave flinched, and whispered an apology as he gave the red mark a gentle rub and then lowered the shirt again. It was a little bruised, but nothing too serious.

He quickly made up some more toast and placed it down before Iruka, who cured his ongoing hunger with fast bites and gulps. Kakashi rubbed the back of his head with a small sigh as he observed the patches of soup sticking to the man's face and beginning to dry. The food trailed down his neck and underneath his shirt, yet the slave seemed unaffected by that too – more focused on the prize in his hands.

"I think you're gong to need a bath after this, Sai-kun," Kakashi smiled weakly as he began cleaning up the shards of porcelain under the table. "You're covered in soup."

A small noise left Iruka's lips, mostly identified as an 'Mm' in either agreement or acceptance. Kakashi blinked, once again amazed.

_Did he just say 'Mm?' _

x—

Iruka's wide eyes stared at the water spraying out of the two taps sat at the end of the bath tub, his back leaning against the wall, as close to the corner of the room he could get without catching his master's attention. His heart thumped furiously inside his chest, every muscle tense as he watched Kakashi's hand swish the water rising in the tub back and forth, testing the temperature. He stole a cautious glance of the open door, but his eyes averted back to the tub in startle when he noticed his master squeezing a white bottle that shot out a thin line of blue liquid. Kakashi mixed it in with the water, creating the foamy substance that bobbed above the surface. Iruka swallowed thickly, feeling the back of his eyes itch with tears as that familiar sense of dread returned.

He hated when he couldn't recognize which form of punishment or game was being set up for him – it made it more difficult to prepare or defend himself. A shiver made its way along his back as he watched the foam slide along the surface of the water, goose bumps breaking through his skin at the uncertainty of whether it was supposed to sting, burn or itch. This was not the 'bath' he had expected.

"I need you to get undressed for me now." his master said, though whether it was a request or order, Iruka wasn't sure.

The slave stood where he was, frozen against the wall while trying to find a way out of this situation. He wasn't sure what he had done to warrant this form of torture, unless this was from the unsettled incident over the plate earlier, or perhaps the bowl he had broken, or something he may had done outside. His eyes slowly averted from the deep water and back to the open doorway, considering trying to run from his fate but seeing himself not getting very far. His master was much faster than him, as he had learned yesterday, and Iruka could only imagine that Kakashi was stronger than him too.

The jounin turned and glanced up at him with a concerned eye, confused at the silence behind him, or rather, lack of the sound of shifting material.

"What's wrong?" he finally asked, observing the way the slave's eyes looked just beneath his master's knees, avoiding his eye.

Turning the taps off, Kakashi stood up and approached the young man, painting a look of understanding inside a smiling eye. "It's nothing I haven't seen before – there's no need to be embarrassed," Smirking playfully, he tugged at Iruka's shirt. "Come on now, off with your clothes."

The slave obeyed, lifting his arms and letting his master remove his clothes, too frightened to defy. He felt Kakashi's hands on his grey bottoms next, gently pulling them down with his underwear. Iruka looked weakly to the water again, dreading this situation creeping closer.

He felt his master take his wrist and gave it a small tug towards the tub. Iruka jerked his hand away, reluctant to upset his master, yet not wanting to move from this spot. Kakashi blinked and approached him again, raising a silver brow in an open, understanding expression.

"What is it?" he asked, gently cupping the slave's cheek to lift his head and make him look into his eyes. "Talk to me – tell me what's wrong,"

A small, shaky breath of air left Iruka's lips and he returned his gaze to the water. Kakashi followed where he was looking, a small frown knitting.

_Has he never had a bath before?_

He turned to Iruka questioningly. "Didn't they bath you yesterday?" he asked, remembering the damp strands of chocolate locks dripping down the man's face. "In the _bathroom?_"

He received no form of response, giving Kakashi the belief that he had been lied to by Masaki and his maid. He chose to conceal his anger once more, focusing on what was more important.

"You don't have to be afraid," He smiled warmly, offering as much honesty his eye could hold. "It's just a bath – you just sit in the water while I wash you. I won't hurt you, I promise, and I won't put your head under the water either," He took Iruka's wrist again. "Come on, its okay,"

He gave it another small tug, but the slave jerked his hand away again, looking anywhere in the room but his master.

"Sai," Kakashi sighed with a partially stern eye. "You're being silly now." He looked back to the bath tub almost longingly, knowing that once Iruka was in there, he would realise it was really no big deal – it was just _getting_ him in there that would be difficult.

He grabbed the slave's wrist again, this time with a firmer grip, yet just as gentle. Iruka tried to pull his hand back again, and felt his panic rise at the tight grip, knowing that he wasn't going to get out of this. He whimpered under his breath as he felt the soles of his feet slide across the tiled floor, the jounin gently tugging him towards him. He pulled again and twisted his wrist to try and slip his hand out of the grip, but when he came to no success, his temper rose at the water getting closer, and, driven by panic, he lifted his free hand and slapped the jounin around the face.

The blow turned Kakashi's head slightly, as he hadn't expected to be hit. He instinctively released the slave's wrist to cup his masked cheek, still in shock. His breath was caught in his throat as he felt the skin underneath his mask tingle from the hard slap, and he lifted his eye to Iruka, seeing the regret flash through the slave's wide eyes, the young man shocked himself at what he had just done.

Before Kakashi had the chance to react, the slave turned and ran out of the room, slipping on the towel on the floor as he did so. His heart pounded through his chest and he ran down the stairs, once again unaffected by his nudity, as he ran straight towards the door.

His body slammed against the wooden frame and he gripped the door handle. The lever rattled loudly, drowning out his heavy, shortened breaths as he tried to force the door open, but his master had already locked it. He growled in frustration and slammed his forehead into the wood, then let out a small, pathetic whimper.

He wasn't going anywhere.

His eyes shot back to the empty stairway, almost spilling over with tears, and he surrendered, falling to the floor beside the radiator where he had been previously punished. He lifted his knees and buried his face into is lap. He wrapped his arms around himself, curling into the tightest, defenseless ball he could, and let out a small sob of terror as footsteps made their way down the stairs.


	3. Chapter 3

Kakashi stopped at the bottom of the stairs and gazed into the corner of the room with a sorrowful eye, the quiet sob he'd heard only seconds ago still trickling into his ears. The young slave was sat against the radiator, curled up in a tight ball, yet it was clear from the very stiff figure that he was well aware of Kakashi's presence.

Kakashi felt ashamed at himself that he had frightened the young male into such a state - that he had bullied Iruka by provoking such a terrified sound. It wasn't as though the jounin had never heard the sound of fear from someone before – he was a shinobi, after all – but to make an innocent civilian feel that way shamed him to the core.

His cheek was still tingling from the hard slap he had received, opening his eyes once more to the foul temper the slave could show. It had happened three times now, and each time, Kakashi had noticed the regret shown afterwards, indicating that it was more subconscious than planned. He guessed it was just another trait in Iruka's method of survival, to fight and hope for a lucky shot.

Even so, Iruka had done no more than Kakashi had deserved – he had moved too fast and forced Iruka to do something he didn't quite understand. Kakashi could see that now; it was only natural to be afraid of something that was misunderstood. There was also the possibility that he may have triggered some memory; it wasn't an understatement that Iruka had been through hell during his time with Masaki, and so something could have happened there that connected to the water – perhaps some form of punishment Masaki had once bragged about, that may had convinced Iruka it was happening to him again. Whatever it was, Kakashi wanted to know. He wanted to understand so he could find a way to work around it, but Iruka wouldn't talk to him. He had considered using his sharingan to pick up the memory and see for himself why Iruka was afraid, but right now, he felt as though he had jabbed a little too much into the slave's comfort zone already.

If Iruka wanted to share his fears, he would do so in his own time.

Kakashi's fingers curled into the soft, wool blanket in his hands as he watched the slave with a hesitant eye, unsure whether to approach, or leave Iruka alone until the man had enough time to calm down. But the sight of the slave trembling at his presence bothered him greatly, as it was something Kakashi never wanted to see. He had never wanted to be feared by those who had no reason to be afraid of him. What's more, Iruka had decided to punish himself for his actions by surrendering in the 'naughty spot,' but it was Kakashi who was in the wrong – who had provoked his temper in the first place, and so he felt the need to apologise.

His silver brows knitted faintly as he collected his thoughts. Although Iruka's instincts were majorly compared to the ones of an animal, Kakashi knew the slave was a lot smarter, and so, there had to be a way of reasoning with him. It was clear that Iruka understood what he was saying, as he had responded numerous of times in ways he could. But while Iruka understood, Kakashi suspected that barely a word he said was taken as the truth, as though every question and comment was a trap to lure him into some kind of game. That was how it seemed, and so reasoning could possibly backfire and make things even worse.

It was somewhat infuriating, having to think carefully through every word and action to ensure that he wasn't plucking at the slave's thin sheet of comfort, but if it was the only way to earn some trust, then it had to be done.

He decided on using something he knew would get Iruka's attention to build his chance of reasoning, and quietly slipped into the kitchen, aware of the slave listening to his every movement.

Iruka released a breath he hadn't realised he'd been holding, as he heard the jounin leave the room. His shoulders shrank a little, but the relief was short lived when he heard the fridge door open, knowing too well now what was stacked in there. The feeling of dread returned to his stomach, along with the soft growl of hunger as he grudgingly wondered what food item was being chosen to toy with him.

When the Kakashi returned, Iruka couldn't help but lift his tear-stained face from his lap with the burning desire to see what he had, while wondering where his last ounce of inner strength had gone. He saw the carton of orange juice he had recently enjoyed, along with a single glass, as the jounin slowly approached and sat down opposite him, leaving a couple of feet distance between them.

Kakashi inhaled a sharp breath of air, preparing himself. He could see the man's eyes on the items in his hands, unable, no matter how much it crunched his dignity, to remove his gaze.

"I'm sorry, it was my fault," he whispered in the softest and most honest voice he could find. "I shouldn't have forced you into doing something you didn't want to do – I didn't mean to frighten you." He poured a little juice into the glass and lifted it towards the man, his silver brow rising lightly at the peace offering. "Forgive me?"

Iruka's fingers twitched, eyes watering slightly as he struggled to grasp why he was being rewarded for hitting his master. He stole a hesitant glance of Kakashi, trying to predict the result of this; if he accepted the prize, it may be swiped from his reach in amusement of his stupidity - yet if he refused, he may never see another drop for being so ungrateful. That was how Masaki played it, and with his new master, he had no idea how to play along.

The hesitation went on for too long and Kakashi gave in, setting the glass down on the floor and moving another few feet away so he was completely out of reach from the other man. The gesture was clearly noticed, as Iruka then swung out an arm and grabbed the glass, snatching it towards him and drinking it down fast enough to reach his stomach before his master could take it away. The method sent drops of juice rolling down his chin from his sloppy aim, which only reminded Kakashi that this bath session needed to happen.

Once he was finished, Kakashi slowly approached again, placing the tip of the carton to the glass to fill it up once more, while pretending to be oblivious to those cautious eyes on him. He moved away again as soon as he'd done it, wanting to show no sign of threat, but kindness.

Iruka drank it again and sighed in relief, licking his lips to take every drop of the sweet taste. He hesitantly glanced up at Kakashi, noticing the fragile smile in the jounin's eye, before his master held up a thick, wooly blanket in his hands.

"Can I cover you up?" Kakashi whispered, concerned. "I don't want you getting cold…"

Iruka had forgotten about his nudity, though there had never been much point to remember it. He eyed the man carefully, before slowly nodding in acceptance, knowing that it was easier to comply to an extent with what he could.

With permission given, Kakashi slowly approached again, shuffling over on his knees to wrap the warm blanket around the man's caramel skin.

"Listen," He pulled the two ends of material together to trap the heat and met Iruka's eyes, noticing the small flicker of appreciation for the new warmth.

"This washing thing… we'll do it your way, but you'll have to show me how Masaki did it," He knew he would regret his words, but if it was the only way to clean Iruka then it needed to be done… for now. "I've drained the bath, so the water is all gone," He gave the man a look of understanding. "I won't make you do anything you don't want to, and I'll be very gentle."

He could see in Iruka's eyes that the slave wanted him to drop the subject, but he needed to wash; wasn't that part of instinct too - to be clean?

Kakashi was very good with his words, and seemed only too skilled at placing that soft look in his eye, but whether it was a well rehearsed routine, or played from the heart – it was difficult to decide, especially when it was the only part of his face he could see. After a long moment of hesitation, he decided to take his master's word, figuring that if Kakashi was lying, Iruka would only be more skilled in seeing through his tricks next time.

He nodded weakly and set the glass on the floor, allowing his master to help him to his feet and lead him back up the stairs. Kakashi walked slowly, letting Iruka take each step with the time he needed to go through with what seemed to be a significant moment for him. It was clear that there was no trust between them and it bothered Kakashi a lot – he wanted to change that.

Iruka stopped when they approached the doorway, but Kakashi gently took his arm and guided him inside, letting him see for himself that the tub had really been drained – that Kakashi had been true to his word. Releasing the man's hand, he locked the door behind them, paying as little attention as possible to the unease it gave Iruka, as this time, there was no way of escape.

But there shouldn't have to be.

He turned to Iruka with his smile returning, trying to wash away the tense atmosphere.

"How does Masaki bath you then?" he asked, wanting to quickly get through his 'bath mission,' as it was becoming more trouble than it needed to be.

Iruka looked around the bathroom with a clueless gaze, leaving Kakashi with the idea that his usual washing session would not have taken place in Masaki's bathrooms. It didn't surprise him, but it did return his anger towards Masaki, however, he forced it back again, knowing that now was an inappropriate time to show any sign of negative emotion.

Sighing, he untied the bandages from each of his legs, and leaped up onto the edge of the tub to unfasten the showerhead from its frame. He twisted the dial for a warm temperature as the water sprayed out of its hose. He glanced over to Iruka, who looked a little confused, but seemed to recognise the sharp and form, as the uneasy expression in his face had calmed a little.

"Can you put that blanket on the toilet seat and then come in here, like this," Tugging up his jounin bottoms to roll up over his knees, Kakashi then carefully stepped into the tub.

Iruka nodded and placed down the blanket as told, unaware of his master's eye tracing along the deep scars stretched out over his back. He turned, and Kakashi's eye then met his again with a warm smile.

"Alright, come in here, like this,"

Kakashi held out his hand and took a gentle hold of the slave's wrist, guiding him into the tub. Iruka's eyes darted around him, scanning his surroundings before he observed the constant flow of water that sprayed from the shower head. He stared at the shallow puddle of water at the bottom of the tub, barely reaching the top of his feet. It was enough to calm him a little more.

"Okay, ready?" Kakashi asked, hoping for Iruka to lead and show how he wanted this done.

Iruka took a glance of the small area, before turning his back to his master to place his hands on the cold wall tiles. Dipping his head down slightly, he then parted his arms and legs, allowing the jounin access to almost every inch of his body to wash. Kakashi stared with a wide, startled eye, having to take a moment to realise what the slave was doing. He noticed the muscles underneath the man's tanned skin tense in preparation for the cold water, and when it didn't come, he turned his head to steal a questioning glance of Kakashi.

When the glance caught his attention, Kakashi snapped out of his stare and lowered his gaze to the shower head in his hand, then back to the male spread out before him. With Iruka's limbs stretched out like that, Kakashi could almost see the invisible chains locked around them, holding him in place. It sent a sickening feeling in his stomach as an image came to his mind, one of himself standing in Masaki's place. He chased it away, instead, focusing on the task to allow the slave some comfort, and lifted the showerhead, aiming the warm water to splash against the dark, scarred spine.

Iruka flinched when it finally came, a small gasp of startle leaving his lips at the cold sensation on his back, but he soon recognized the temperature and sighed in surprising content. Only seconds had passed before the water then left his skin and, after a moment of waiting, he turned to face his master with a questioning brow.

Kakashi stared distantly at the shower head in his hand again, lost in his thoughts.

"I'm sorry," he finally whispered, meeting the slave's gaze again with a troubled eye. "I can't do this. It's not… right."

He grimaced, unable to hide the disgust in his eye at the returning image in his mind. The expression didn't go unnoticed by the slave and his dark brows furrowed, as he tried to understand what was wrong.

"I wouldn't wash a_ dog_ like this." Kakashi then hissed, but his words were directed towards Masaki, repulsed at his 'cheap and easy' methods to clean a human being - at the absolute torture each of those slaves, including Iruka, must have gone through once they returned to their cold, wooden sheds, wet, frozen and shivering to the bone with not even a charity blanket to cover themselves with.

He returned his gaze to Iruka, a hard, stern look in his eye. "I'm sorry, but I'm doing this my way – whether you fight me or not."

A silent gasp left Iruka's lips as he stared at the jounin in disbelief, horrified at the knowledge that he had just been lied to. When Kakashi dropped the shower head onto the floor to approach him, he snapped back into reality and shot the man a dark glare of warning – he was not going in the water.

Kakashi froze for a second, trying to stay calm and logical in the situation, as he really didn't want to have to battle the man into the bath tub. He also didn't want those gritted teeth snapping at his skin again. He took another step forward, and that seemed enough for the slave, who immediately climbed over the rim and onto the tiled floor, trying his best not to slip while doing so. He ran straight for the door again and rattled the handle, while twisting at the lock that refused to move from its place.

Glaring, he turned back to Kakashi to see the man reattaching the plug and turning the tap keys. His chest clenched painfully at the sound of water rushing back into the tub, and he stared at the heavy flow with wide, panicked eyes, knowing that there was no way out. He took a couple of steps back until he was up against the wall, his eyes scowling at Kakashi accusingly, calling him a liar.

The look stabbed into Kakashi's heart with guilt, but he hid the emotion from his eye, while trying to remind himself that he was doing the right thing; that he was not hurting Iruka physically by doing this. He had tried to do it Masaki's way, but it made him feel sick to his stomach with knowledge that Iruka's freedom wasn't the end to that method/torture. Perhaps the sickening feeling was the guilt that he had denied for years, for he had always known of Masaki's dealings, but hadn't done enough to stop it.

He figured there wasn't much point explaining that he had manipulated the lock to the door with his chakra, as he doubted that Iruka would even know what chakra was. What mattered now was that he couldn't escape, and that in only a matter of minutes, he would be clean. Kakashi was not naïve to the understanding that he had probably broken any chance of trust between them, but he would rather it be that, than to use any form of torture – whether Iruka wanted it or not.

There was absolute silence between them underneath the sound of heavy water. Iruka's eyes were locked on the pouring water, unable to tear them away. His entire frame had frozen in shock, as he knew his master was stronger than he was, and Masaki's words were still taunting his mind, convincing him that the worst was still yet to come.

He should have known that his master's words were false – it wasn't the first time he had been tricked with food and a fake smile. He struggled to conceal his anger at both himself and Kakashi, while bitterly wondering where his willpower had gone. He was never this weak around Masaki – he was supposed to be smarter than this.

The water soon reached the tub and Iruka snapped his glare to the jounin, almost in a challenging way, as if to dare his master to go through with this. Though inwardly, he knew as well as Kakashi did that he barely stood a chance. He never did, and the fear behind that feeling never weakened.

Turning off the taps, Kakashi turned his gaze to the slave with a soft eye, desperately trying to give the impression that the situation was not as bad as Iruka was making it out to be.

"Come here please, Sai," he calmly requested, but Iruka didn't obey, instead, pressing his back tighter into the wall while taking a long, deep breath of determination.

Iruka's hands were balled up into tight fists, and Kakashi could see the man's arms trembling as he was also frightened of the consequence.

Kakashi sighed deeply in irritation, understanding why the slave was behaving this way, but seeing no other way of making it any easier for him. He didn't know what else to do, other than force the man.

"Sai, please! I'm not going to hurt you – just come here!" his voice was harder than he'd hoped, becoming frustrated with this unnecessary confrontation.

Again, there was no sign of Iruka obeying. Sighing, Kakashi simply approached him, startling the slave into panic and the young brunette clenched his teeth, while letting out a sharp, ear-piercing hiss of warning. Kakashi stopped, taken back by the reaction – although he'd heard that noise from the man before, it was still a shocking sound to hear from something that was supposed to be human. He had a feeling he would see a further extent of Iruka's temper during this bathing session, but there was no point giving in now – the damage had already been done, and he was not going to let Iruka think such inappropriate and _rude_ noises would get him what he wanted.

He grabbed the man's wrist and jerked it towards him. A sharp gasp left Iruka's lips as he was tugged away from the wall, and he lifted his free hand to swing towards Kakashi's face, but the jounin caught it, expecting the action this time. Iruka growled and pulled frantically at his arms, trying to slip his wrists out of his master's tight grip, but Kakashi would not let go.

"Into the bath." Kakashi ordered, eyeing him sternly as if to tell him that there was no other option. Gently, he pulled at the slave again, letting the man's wet soles slide against the floor tiles, which sent more fear into Iruka's heart.

Iruka growled again, the vicious noise piercing through Kakashi's ears like needles, as the slave fought for his hands back, twisting and jerking. When the grip wouldn't loosen, he lowered his head towards Kakashi's clutching hand, and bit into the pale skin, drawing blood.

Kakashi winced at the pain, automatically releasing the man's hand and twisting his own from the vice-like grip. He lifted his hand to inspect the bite, and grimaced at the shallow puddle of blood that twirled along his wrist. He looked back to Iruka, who was glaring at him darkly, as if to promise that he would do it again. There was a thin blotch of Kakashi's blood smeared across his lips, and with that sinister look in his eye, it sent a shiver down Kakashi's spine.

The vicious noises he made, the way he bit into Kakashi as though he was a dead piece of meet, and that look in his eye – this man really was an animal!

Kakashi had given up on trying to reason, on trying to be kind and gentle about this, as it had done nothing but make things worse. He realised he needed to take control and simply force the slave – and find the courage to do so. With a fast movement, he grabbed Iruka's arm and turned the man, shocking the slave. He then slid a strong arm around the man's waist, catching both thrashing wrists in his other hand with a tight hold. Low grunts and growls bounced off the walls as Iruka struggled, until he was lifted up from the ground and carried towards the tub.

He suddenly screamed in terror, the noise ripping from deep within his lungs as he kicked out his legs in every direction possible to stop the jounin. His eyes began to flood with tears, as his screams turned into childish, hysterical sobs, his head shaking for mercy but he was denied.

Kakashi forced himself to ignore the noise, no matter how painful it was to his ears and heart. He wanted nothing more than to make the slave feel safe, but with so little way of communication, it was impossible. It was just easier to go through with it and let Iruka see for himself that he was completely safe.

He lifted Iruka's legs over the rim of the tub, but the slave fought back, clutching onto the rim with painfully clenched toes to push his weight back against Kakashi. Kakashi then climbed into the tub, lifting Iruka over with him. The slave's feet sank into the water.

Iruka's legs trembled furiously with so much power that the water was gently rocking back and forth. His flooding eyes, refusing to look at the water, stared up at Kakashi, but all sign of challenge and hatred was gone - replaced with a frightened, pleading stare, as his breaths came out sharp and fast with a struggle to steady them.

Kakashi sighed and pulled Iruka into a comforting hug. He rubbed the man's back, while realising his own hands were now shaking. He could feel the hot tears that stained his vest as the slave cried into his shoulder, though whether it was an attempt of showing submission for mercy, a plead for sympathy, or a sudden need for comfort, Kakashi wasn't sure. Lifting a foot, he pushed his heel into the back of Iruka's knee, forcing the slave to buckle and fall deeper into the water, which resulted in another broken cry of terror.

"It's okay…" Kakashi tried to reassure him, though he doubted his voice would reach the man's ears underneath those heavy pants of air.

Iruka shut his eyes tight, not wanting to see the water swallowing him into the tub as he was forced deeper inside. Every twist and tug attempt was denied by the tight hold around his waist, keeping him in place and guiding him lower. He could feel the warm water splashing against his skin from his trembling. He could hear the sound leaking into his ears and making his muscles lock up in fear, every tiny hair stand up.

The water washed above their knees, rising to their thighs, as Kakashi lowered them deeper, but the sudden end to Iruka's cries forced him to stop, and he lifted the slave's chin to see that his eyes were closed – he was unconscious.

"Shit!" Kakashi hissed under his breath, his panic rising at the realisation that he hadn't been as in control as he had thought.

He held the unconscious man steady as he positioned them further into the tub, allowing the limp figure to lean against his frame for support. "I'm sorry, Iruka," he whispered, wincing at the name he hadn't heard spoken out loud in years. "It's alright… almost over now…" he reassured the sleeping man. Taking a cloth from the side, he carefully began to wash the slave.

x—

Iruka slowly opened his eyes and stared numbly at the white ceiling. He blinked away the blurred sheet covering his vision, and was welcomed by the sight of the room that Kakashi had given him. He assumed that the curtains were closed behind him, as the room was dimly lit with a weak yellow, signalling the start of the evening.

A strange scent lingered around his face, teasing his nostrils with a strong fragrance. He could feel dampness at the back of his head that soaked through the pillow, and sent a small shiver along the spine of his neck. Lifting a hand to his hair, he realised it was wet, and pulled thick strands to his nose to examine where the smell was coming from. It was a sweet smell and somewhat strong, something that burned his nostrils slightly. With knitted brows, he gave the strands a lick to taste, yet all he could taste were the drops of water.

An attempt to move his other arm was denied, and with tired eyes, he looked up to see a familiar chain locked around his wrist, connecting to the headboard. His brows knitted deeply as he tugged at it, though wasn't surprised to find that it would not come loose.

Scowling, he turned to face the wall in a sulk, thinking over the recent event that reminded him of his master's dishonesty.

The deep water flashed through his mind, making the small hairs on the back of his neck stand, toes curling into the sheets for a reminder that he was no longer in the water. Despite his efforts to shake off the memory, the image returned thicker, triggered by a sudden wave of emotion that sent fresh, hot tears to his eyes.

He wanted to go home.

He held his breath, forbidding the urge to release the small cry threatening to break through. Closing his eyes tightly, he grabbed a fistful of blanket with his free hand, frustrated with the tears he knew were a sign of weakness. He couldn't understand what was happening to him – he would never have cried in Masaki's reach of hearing, knowing that it would only humiliate himself.

For years he had wanted this moment to happen, to be bought by another slave owner with the belief that things would be different for the better. He had often dreamed of receiving food at the sound of a stomach rumble, or a warm bed to press his face into and sooth his aching eyes, but the conditions and catches that came with such things in reality were sometimes more distressing than the feeling of desperate hunger – especially when those conditions were not at all made clear to him. He couldn't understand what Kakashi wanted from him.

He missed Masaki and his shed, where his purpose, expectations and limits were simple. After so many years of living in Masaki's sheds, both he and Iruka had become so used to each other, that they could read each other as though it was second nature. They knew how to provoke and prod at each other's temper; placing a couple of bread slices in front of the door to watch Iruka perform new, yet failing methods to get to it until he'd release a scream of insanity, was a fitting way for Masaki to remind the slave that he could never survive without his master's generosity. Yet, Iruka, in time, had also learned that pretending to fit before his clients would always embarrass Masaki in front of his customers, and leave behind the off-putting impression that Masaki's slaves weren't worth the price asking if they were too unhealthy.

There was also the fact that Masaki would fear Iruka's temper at times - if he provoked the slave too much. That was another weapon that Iruka had adjusted to, as he knew the expression his eyes needed, and the vicious sound he needed to make to alarm his master, to make Masaki hesitate, which would always make his master's actions a little clumsy.

Kakashi, however, did not seem threatened by his temper at all - shocked, yes, but not at all threatened, and that made Iruka feel so vulnerable as his own weapon had been taken from him without his realising. In its result, Iruka feared Kakashi more, which also scared him with the thought of losing every ounce of fight within him, along with his plain sanity, and would know nothing but obedience – just like a lot of the slaves Masaki had broken. .

Underneath the thick bed sheets, he could feel that he had been redressed in some form of clothing to keep him warm, and despite his grudge, he couldn't deny his appreciation towards it. But it also made him feel nervous, as he, once again, couldn't grasp why he was being rewarded for causing his master harm, and for the first time in his life, he longed for Masaki at his side – who had not once failed to ensure Iruka knew his limits.

While glaring at the wall with glistening eyes, he listened carefully for any noises downstairs, and was half-relieved to discover silence, yet the other half of him strained his hearing a little more. He couldn't bear to face his master just yet, but he did want to hear some sign of life down there, preferably in the kitchen, because he was hungry again.

Whether that was the truth, or just his mind telling him he was hungry to stock up on energy, he had never been certain. While he was angry at his master's deception, he did want to be fed, though he feared the price that may come with it. Kakashi was clearly not the man Iruka had thought he was, and the slave was having a hard time understanding what his master's intentions really were.

Dark brows knitted as he focused on the long silence. Where was he?

x—

The wind whistled softly though the air, making the leaves dance gently in the trees. Kakashi's eye glanced down to the familiar dark stone in front of him.

It had been a while since he had visited here; his duty towards the village and business with Masaki had swallowed a lot of his free time, and so it was quite rare to find a moment where he could visit, apologise for his delays and feel himself again.

It hadn't even been an entire day yet since he had taken Iruka into his home, yet it felt a lot longer. Perhaps it was because each slave he usually encountered was quickly taken to the 'orphanage' for medical treatment and a place to stay until they were ready to leave, which for some, was a life time. Kakashi was never around them long enough to understand every simple need they required; he visited when he could, to ensure they understood what had happened and why they had been brought to this refuge, but other than that, he had never been around them long enough to really understood the damage Masaki had done to their lives.

It was hard, having to think carefully through every simple daily routine - such as passing on an innocent glass of water. Every single word spoken and action made had to be thought through, as the slaves were so fragile and cautious of everything. He had never really thought on it much, as he constantly had to juggle with his time to serve his village and buy more slaves.

Iruka was the slave he had spent the most time with, and it wasn't until now that Kakashi had really begun to appreciate the amount of care and patience the employees had at the orphanage. He had never imagined before how difficult it was to ensure a single slave felt safe and relaxed – he could barely imagine how his employees handled making so many of those at the orphanage feel that way, when he was having trouble with just one.

Through the quiet wind, he could still hear those cries of terror ripping through his ears at what he had forced the slave into, another weight added to his dilemma. He had messed up again in trying to do the right thing, something he was sure the workers at the orphanage would have handled without much trouble. He had figured it was best not to be in his home by the time Iruka woke up; Iruka needed some time to calm down, where Kakashi's threatening presence wasn't constantly in his space.

He stared at the names carved into the stone, wondering whether it would be easier to escort Iruka to the orphanage and let the slave find his place there; surely, he would know some of the faces there; maybe he would feel relaxed enough to talk to them too. But as he stopped at a certain name carved into the marble, he hesitated on the thought.

_KIA_

_Umino Iruka_

Would it be the right decision to send the slave away, when his home was here?

His tongue ran across his inner teeth as his thoughts tangled, knowing that he was out of his depth. Umino Iruka was supposed to be dead – something Kakashi believed until yesterday, when he saw the man with his own eyes, chained into that shed. How could he send the man out of the village, when this was where he belonged? How could he seek advice, when his dealings with Masaki were supposed to be secret? He didn't know what to do. He had never imagined himself crossing this situation, where a Leaf citizen, or rather, ex Genin would end up far out from the village, in _that_ area.

x—

Iruka's eyes widened when he heard the door open downstairs, unaware that his master was making his movements louder than usual. With his free hand, he rubbed his sleeve into his eyes to dry them, and listened to the noises downstairs.

The sound of the kitchen door opening, along with something being placed down on the table counters caught Iruka's breath in his throat, as he quickly assumed that Kakashi was preparing food. His body turned stiff as he wondered if his master remembered his presence upstairs, all thoughts of resentment quickly vanishing with the hope of being fed again.

He heard the sound of a draw open, cutlery being taken out and placed on the table… plates…

He shivered in excitement, fingers curling around the chain locked to the headboard as he listened intently, waiting to hear footsteps approach the stairs. The smell of hot foot came first, teasing his nostrils, rumbling in his stomach, and releasing a thin line of drool from his lips in preparation to eat. He turned his head to look up at the closed door in impatience and, without realising, pulled at the chain to rattle against the headboard, as though to signal to the man downstairs that he was here.

The trained ninja heard the noise, wondering if that meant his actions were forgiven, or simply put on hold until Iruka had eaten. He placed a small portion of ramen on Iruka's plate, hoping it was enough to satisfy the slave, yet ensuring it was small enough for the man's body to digest; for someone who had previously lived on food the size of a piece of bread, the portions needed to grow gradually.

He placed knives and forks either side of the plates, wanting to take the next step in teaching Iruka to eat properly, before they moved onto chopsticks.

He then made his way towards the stairs, letting the food cool off a little so it didn't burn the man's tongue. As he walked up the stairs, he heard the faint sound of shifting sheets – the slave fidgeting in the bed in impatience, probably. Placing a hand on the door, he slowly opened it, and glanced down to see Iruka sitting up in the bed and gazing up at his master with wary eyes, though his excitement towards the smell of food was evidently flashing through.

Kakashi let out a small sigh as he thought through what he needed to say, checking over every word to ensure there was no meaning behind them that Iruka could misread.

"I have some food for you downstairs," he began, noticing the sudden heavy breath of relief escape the slave's lips, as though he had considered Kakashi going back on his promise to constantly feed him. "I'd like to talk to you first though, if that's okay with you?" He gently raised a brow, asking Iruka permission, rather than demanding.

Iruka frowned in confusion, but gave a small nod, again, willing to cooperate when the subject of food was mentioned.

Kakashi sat down on the bed, keeping their height level even for the sake of avoiding another problem in Iruka's cautious mind. He looked up at Iruka, noticing the sudden redness in the man's eyes, indicating that he had been crying. After carefully thinking, Kakashi chose to ignore it.

"What I did today was unfair. It was unforgivable." Kakashi murmured, watching Iruka's eyes widen slightly. "I forced you to do something you didn't understand, and I can see I made you feel unsafe," He raised a soft brow. "I didn't mean to make you feel that way, but you needed to be washed, and…" He shrugged with a small wince. "I didn't like the way you wanted to be washed. But look now," He slowly lifted a pale hand, light and gentle as he touched the tips of Iruka's hair, but quickly moved away at the sign of the man's discomfort. "You're nice and clean again – that was all I wanted."

Iruka glared lightly at the blanket, trying to cut through Kakashi's words for something. It was a habit, to search for the deception, and right now, he was too stubborn to admit that he couldn't find any.

"Now,"

Kakashi stood up from the bed and slowly leaned over to unlock the chain he had placed to avoid Iruka wandering round the dangerous home of a shinobi. Iruka slowly moved his arm, cupping his wrist with his other free hand, dark brows knitted in his deep thoughts.

"Would you like to come downstairs and eat with me?" Kakashi asked in a soft, gentle voice, again, thinking through every word and making every question an option, rather than demand. "I have a little surprise for you, for after dinner." He smiled in his eye.

Iruka's nod was quick and sure. Smiling, Kakashi took hold of the man's arm, feeling the muscles tense under his touch, but he didn't move away this time, wanting Iruka to get used to that feeling, as it was not unusual in the outside world. He helped the man to his feet and led him down the stairs, and into the kitchen.

Iruka sat down in his usual seat, gazing down at the warm food and licking his lips. He lowered a hand towards the plate, but stopped at his master's voice.

"Wait a minute, Sai," Kakashi requested, taking a tea towel from the drawer and approaching the man. "Can you lift your head up for me, please?" His eye crinkled into a soft smile.

Iruka blinked, raised a dark brow, and slowly complied. The towel was tucked into the collar of his sweater to hang down his chest. "That'll keep your clothes clean." Kakashi explained, and, kneeling down beside the man, picked up a fork.

"Watch carefully," He stabbed the fork into the noodles and twirled, watching Iruka's wide, fascinated eyes. Lifting the fork to the slave's lips, Kakashi smirked playfully. "Open."

Iruka parted his lips, staring in astonishment as the jounin slipped the fork into his mouth, careful not to hit any of his teeth. He chewed, tonguing the noodles delicately to capture the strong flavour. Kakashi heard a small hum and couldn't help but smile behind his mask, knowing the slave was enjoying his meal.

"Would you like to try?"

Eager, Iruka took the fork from his master and stabbed it into the small pile of food. His twirling was slower than Kakashi's, mostly because he was watching in fascination, but also a stranger to the method. The noodles were knotted loosely around the fork, slowly slipping from the device as he aimed it towards his mouth. He slurped it up, slapping more juice around his face with another dreading realisation to Kakashi that it wouldn't be long before the bath session would need to happen again.

"You did it!" Kakashi praised, noticing the smallest of smiles from the younger man as he made his next attempt.

A glass of orange juice was set down before Iruka, which didn't go to waste, as the slave took everything Kakashi had to offer.

Once finished, Kakashi dabbed a damp piece of tissue over Iruka's face, cleaning away the sticky juice, before cleaning the orange puddle on the floor. Kakashi took out a small pot of ice cream from the freezer, the size suitable for a young child. He opened the lid and placed it on the table in front of Iruka, along with a spoon. Iruka wrinkled his nose, staring down at the white… blob.

"You have to eat this one slowly because it's cold, but it's nice." Kakashi grinned, just as excited to try out the new type of food.

The tension had faded a little, to Kakashi's delight, and he wondered if Iruka had believed him, that he had truly meant no harm. He watched as Iruka poked at the ice cream with the tip of his spoon, apparently trying to examine it. Finally, he dug out a big portion as though he was using a shovel, and Kakashi's eye widened in alarm.

"Wait, Sai! Don-"

The spoon slipped past Iruka's lips and he blinked up at Kakashi, before that cold, aching sensation made its way to his temple. Kakashi cringed with him, hearing a squeak of discomfort as the slave covered his head with his hands, dropping the spoon onto the floor.

He slowly opened his watering eyes and glared at Kakashi, who smiled weakly. He looked down at the pot of ice cream again and shuddered, moving it away from him. Kakashi blinked, distantly wondering if that was the first time the man had ever turned down food.

x—

Kakashi linked his fingers with the slave, squeezing lightly to not lose the man as they walked through the night village, around corners and alleys to ensure they were not seen. He had gave Iruka a warm black coat to lend for the walk, the hood pulled over his head, along with a thick, red wooly scarf that the slave buried his nose under for warmth.

Kakashi was sure the man would like what he had in store, or at least, he hoped. That familiar tension had returned, and Kakashi was certain he was not imagining it. The eye contact had gradually faded since they'd stepped foot out of the door, and Kakashi had a feeling he knew why.

There was no more food to bargain with, at least not until tomorrow, when he was sure Iruka's cooperation would return. It was infuriating. Kakashi had made sure his apology and explanation was heard, and he thought perhaps he had been forgiven for it too, or at least understood. He guessed it didn't really matter to Iruka whether he was sorry or not; he just shouldn't have done it in the first place.

Although it shouldn't have, it bothered Kakashi a lot that he was merely a resource for Iruka. He knew he was being used, but it was not in a malicious way, but one of survival. Iruka didn't know any other way, nor had he ever had any other choice. But while he understood, it still bothered him.

He should have guessed it was a silly idea to think that they could become friends. Iruka had mentally been alone for so long that he simply didn't need a friend. All he needed was an owner, a master, something that Kakashi didn't really want to be – he never had. Iruka knew his priorities in life and would do anything to get it; he didn't need anyone to 'support' or 'understand his feelings,' because he never had the opportunity to feel the comfort in it.

He couldn't think of anything else he could do to make Iruka believe that he was sorry. There wasn't the option of promising never to do it again, because the bathing session would _have_ to return soon, and no matter how thick the tension was, Kakashi would not change his mind about using Masaki's method instead. Even if it didn't cause pain or discomfort, it was still wrong, and it was something that would never happen in the civilized world either, where Kakashi wanted to introduce one day.

He couldn't help but feel grateful that Iruka hadn't given him the cold shoulder all night; that he had at least heard him out, even if it was to win over his dinner. He was relieved that the slave hadn't tried fighting with him again; as understandable as Iruka's reasons were, again, it was not how a civilized person behaved.

He sighed and gazed into the distance, noticing the small field ahead of them with a large circled fence sat in the middle, containing a small play area. Iruka stopped when he noticed the place, eyes widening slightly and unaware of Kakashi's eye watching him curiously. Did he remember this?

He released Iruka's hand once they approached and unlocked the bolt on the fence. The play area was completely empty at this time of night, giving them plenty of time to use it.

Kakashi cleared his throat and glanced to Iruka with a soft smile in his eye. "Would you like to, erm, go… play?" He raised a gently brow.

Iruka looked around the small play area, and back to Kakashi with another confused blink. Kakashi sighed and took the man's arm, gently guiding him towards a set of swings.

"How about this one?"

Iruka nodded unsurely, allowing the jounin to sit him down on the dangling seat. His eyes snapped up when Kakashi walked out from his sight, and he turned to see his master now standing behind him, while taking hold of the swings ropes.

"Hold on tight." Kakashi used a bright tone with a playful smile in his eye.

He pulled the ropes back, watching in somewhat amusement as the slave panicked momentarily, before finding his balance. His brown eyes stared down at the floor, wide and alert in somewhat fear of the new toy. Kakashi then gently pushed his back, swinging the device forwards, as Iruka clenched his fists around the rope for safety.

After a couple of swings, the slave calmed a little, gazing up at the night sky with fascinated eyes, as he was pushed back and forth, pale hands catching any clumsy losses of balance.

x—

"We can do that again tomorrow, if you like, Sai-kun," Kakashi suggested, as they walked back through the small field.

Iruka nodded, tired eyes staring down at the floor. The slave was being distant again, barely meeting Kakashi's eye, unless of course, he was expected to. The communication had worn out since they had eaten, and although it was selfish, Kakashi couldn't help feeling irritated by it. He had thought the park could ease the tension a little; that he could show Iruka a little fun and let the atmosphere fade on its own. Iruka hadn't seemed to have even wanted to be there; he was just doing as he was told.

Kakashi _really_ was sorry for what he had done, and he _really_ was trying to help. Looking back, he knew he had made the wrong approach and caused Iruka to panic, but he had also justified his actions and tried to make it up to the man.

Or was he just imagining it? He stole a glance of Iruka, wondering if the method of thinking through every action had perhaps turned into a habit by now. He hesitated for a moment, before licking his lips and parting them.

"Are you still angry with me?" he looked back to Iruka with a troubled eye.

Iruka stopped in his tracks and blinked up at Kakashi. The mystery of his master was getting on his nerves, as he couldn't understand why he would be asked such a question – why it would matter what he felt. His dark brows knitted into a frown, again, trying to see through that skilful eye and figure out his master's game. Masaki's last words were still spinning at the surface of his mind, as he tried to understand why he was being rewarded for so many things he had done wrong, or whether his punishment was still yet to come, when he was caught off guard. If the latter, he just wanted it to happen, so he could stop waiting for the moment to come.

Kakashi winced under his mask at the frown, assuming the answer for himself. He sighed and turned to continue walking, gently tugging the slave with him. Apologizing was obviously not going to work here; Iruka didn't believe a word he said. His mind raced as he considered his next plan, one that he hoped he wouldn't need to use; a plan that could deceive the slave with a completely honest reason to trust him. Not only was it dishonest and cruel, but there was a possible chance it would backfire on him in the long run.

He sighed again, deciding if it backfired, he would deal with it when it did so.

He slowed down his pace as they walked into a set of trees, using Iruka's distracted eyes on his new surroundings as an advantage.

Iruka stopped when Kakashi's footsteps faded and slowly turned to see an open field, his master no where to be seen. He blinked, wrinkling his nose under the scarf in confusion; he hadn't even noticed the man leave.

He turned to look around, but Kakashi was gone. His hand lifted to his covered lips, unsure on what to do. He scanned the open field hesitantly, unsure on whether to stay where he was, or simply walk on and give the illusion of searching.

A low, deep growl echoed quietly through the field and Iruka froze, slowly turning to face whatever had made such a noise. His eyes widened at the sight of a creature standing in the distance, shadowed against the trees and breathing out thick smoke from the frost air. Although he couldn't see it, he could feel the creature's dark eyes watching him with an intent stare, and the animal took a step towards him. Iruka's heart jumped and he stepped back, letting out a shaky breath as he stole a searching glance of his master.

When he looked back to the creature, it charged, four strong feet crunching into the soil as he ran straight towards Iruka, with a deep, vicious growl escaping past sharp, white teeth. Iruka whimpered in fear, having no idea what to do as he had never encountered such a thing before. He turned, nearly tripping over his own feet as he ran towards the open area of the field.

Something suddenly grabbed his arm, and he screamed as he was jerked back.

"Sai!" a familiar voice shouted. "Quick!"

Iruka's eyes shot up to the nearby tree and he gasped at the sight of Kakashi, dangling upside down from the lowest branch, holding out a hand. Iruka grabbed it, and felt himself being hoisted up into the air, as the dark creature pounced with snapping jaws. Iruka whimpered in fear, shutting his eyes tight while kicking his legs. He felt two strong arms wrap around his waist and pull him over the branch, where he was sat down beside the jounin. He opened his watering eyes and panted for air, clutching onto his master's coat for the sake of feeling safe.

"Are you alright?" Kakashi eyed the man in concern. "You're not hurt, are you?" He shuffled closer as Iruka tried to catch his breath, placing a pale hand on the man's back to gently rub it. "I'm so sorry! One minute, you were there, and the next…" He sighed. "You scared the hell out of me…"

Finally catching his breath, Iruka slowly gazed up at Kakashi with watering eyes, his heart still pounding hard in his chest. Kakashi smiled weakly, but gasped when the slave suddenly moved, wrapping his arms around his master's shoulders tightly. Kakashi froze as he felt the other tremble against him, holding him for protection.

"It's alright," he whispered, slowly returning the warm hug. "It's gone now. You're safe…"

So many mixed emotions rushed through him; relief, shock, guilt…

He took in a sharp breath of air and looked down to the large dog below the branch, his summoning pack-member, Bull. He nodded softly in appreciation, receiving a mirrored nod from the large dog, before it disappeared into the trees, leaving behind a thick cloud of smoke.

Kakashi sighed deeply, tightening his grip around the slave and burying his face into the man's shoulder.

He had won Iruka's trust by deceiving the man, but what Iruka didn't know wouldn't hurt him. 


	4. Chapter 4

With Iruka's arms wrapped tightly around his neck, and a strong pale hand gripped tightly to the slave's waist, Kakashi guided them along the branch, slowly lowering them down the trunk, before landing swiftly onto the ground. He could feel Iruka's soft pants against his hear, as the slave began to catch his breath and calm himself down. Iruka's dark eyes scanned his surroundings over the jounin's shoulder in search for the creature that had appeared on these grounds only moments ago.

"It's okay," Kakashi reassured, placing a warm hand on the man's back to give it a comforting rub. "It's gone now."

He loosened the embrace and took a gentle hold of the man's arm. "Come on - let's go back to the house,"

He gave the man's arm a light tug, but the slave didn't move from his spot, frozen against the large tree trunk and unable to move a muscle.

Kakashi's eye crinkled up softly in understanding.

"It's alright. It won't come back, I promise. They won't attack if they're outnumbered," he quickly lied for the sake of restoring some comfort.

"And even if it did, I'll protect you."

His words finally registered at that and Iruka glanced up at him, nodding hesitantly underneath his dark hood. Kakashi nudged his head slightly, signalling their direction, and suddenly felt the slave's hand grasp his sleeve, pulling himself closer to his master for a little more comfort. Kakashi didn't let his surprise show in his eye, for fear of encouraging the idea he was trying to smash down that every single gesture made and word spoken was an attempt to lure the man into some form of trap or game. However inside his relief was strong, and for the first time since they'd met, he believed he had made the right decision.

Lie or not, Iruka was now convinced that for whatever reason – mere ownership or genuine concern towards his wellbeing – that his master would unconditionally guard him from harm, and while Iruka's theories behind it would always be unclear, it was definitely a step forwards. This was the first time the slave had touched his master on his own accord, and so Kakashi paid no attention to the contact, giving the realistic impression that it was barely significant enough to even notice, and walked on.

Once they had left the park area, Iruka seemed to drop his guard a little, now almost certainly convinced the creature would not be back.

As they walked deeper into the village, Iruka felt a sudden sharp pain begin to stir just above his stomach. The muscles in his legs were beginning to hurt from all the walking, and when they reached the centre of the village, it had become a little too much. He suddenly stopped in his tracks, fingers gently tugging his master's sleeve to signal the jounin to stop a moment.

Stopping, Kakashi raised a silver brow as the slave placed a light hand to his aching ribs, gently panting for some air.

"You have a stitch?" Kakashi asked with a hint of guilt, as he realised how far he'd made Iruka walk in comparison to what the man was actually used to.

It was a worrying sight to see, considering they hadn't walked very far, and Kakashi really began to question whether he was truly out of his depth. He had no idea how long it would take to strengthen Iruka's muscles a little and improve on his stamina and energy, leaving him wondering whether some sort of medication was the best solution. It was a solution he didn't really want to consider right now though, as offering Iruka that sort of help would only be possible if he were to either confide in the Hokage about Iruka and his dealings with Masaki, or send Iruka to the orphanage.

Iruka let out a tired sigh as his stitch began to fade. He glanced up at Kakashi with a look of appreciation towards his master's patience, the understanding approach not going unnoticed. He received a soft smile in return, no sign of irritation towards the inconvenience that usually drove Masaki crazy when he couldn't move as fast as ordered.

There was a small cloud of hope inside of him that wanted to believe he had been blessed with the master Kakashi was portraying himself as, but he was afraid to. Masaki's advice was still on the surface of his mind, reminding him of the apparent temper Kakashi had that would be no near to the extent of Masaki's, but worse. Linking that with the memory of Masaki's trembling towards Kakashi's anger back in the shed, Iruka couldn't for the life of him make sense of the way his master had dealt with him over the plate incident, or why Kakashi had apologised for forcing him into that water. It was as though he had been bought by an entirely different person, and that was what scared him, because he didn't know whether or not this was just Kakashi's method of breaking him with the cruel weapon of hope.

But despite Iruka's severe caution and awareness of what his master was capable of, he could now sense Kakashi's devotion to him, something he had never recognized in Masaki before as there were so many slaves living in his premises with better qualities and obedience. He could never imagine Masaki risking his own safety for the sake of a mere slave's life – the man would rather sacrifice the money value, and that put Iruka at ease slightly, allowing him to drop his guard a little as he now realised that he held some value to Kakashi, even if the reason and motive behind it was still unclear.

Kakashi waited for the slave to catch his breath, watching in concern.

"Would you like me to carry you?" he used the most questionable tone he could find, indicating once again that the answer he wanted was a choice, rather than obedience.

Iruka seemed to pick up on the tone, and was apparently beginning to recognize it too, because he tentatively shook his head with a hesitant brow, as if to ask if that was alright.

Kakashi quickly nodded with a bright smile. "It's your choice," he reminded, and gestured for the man to follow.

Thinking carefully, he then decided to reward the slave for his honesty. "How about a glass of orange juice when we get back, and then bed?"

A soft smile formed on Iruka's lips underneath the scarf, eyes lighting up at the generous offer, as he followed after his master.

x—

_The scream ripped through Iruka's throat as he fell into the damp soil. He whimpered in pain, swinging an arm around to feel what had just been lodged into the back of his bare thigh. His fingers grasped the cold hilt of a knife, fist clenching tightly as he tried to gather the courage to pull it out. He could feel the warm blood trickling down his thigh, and hear the heavy, thumping footsteps as Masaki stormed over to him. _

_Fear surged through him and he attempted to curl himself up into a defensive ball, but the sharp, excruciating pain at the back of his thigh with the knife still lodged inside made the movement impossible, and so he stayed extremely still in complete submission, hoping it was enough to calm Masaki down even a little. _

_He could hear his master's sharp, heavy breaths through his nose, like a furious bull about to charge. His entire being filled with absolute regret for his stupid attempt, wishing he had listened to his instincts that had screamed at his decision. Every muscle tensed up painfully in preparation for the inevitable, though Iruka couldn't deny the terror that jolted through his heart when he heard a voice from Masaki that he had never heard before. _

"_You want to play games with me?" Masaki's scream sliced through the silence in the open field, his master absolutely blinded with rage at what Iruka had just gotten away with, so much that the deep wound in his shoulder felt like nothing but a dull sting underneath the rush of his adrenaline. _

_Having never attempted an escape before, or been able to cause that much harm to Masaki, Iruka could not even imagine the reality of danger he was in, unable to predict the consequence with a master who could never usually control his anger for long. He shut his eyes tightly; as though shutting out his vision would somehow make the entire situation disappear as well. _

_Without warning, the knife's blade was ripped from the bleeding, trembling flesh, freeing the strangled cry the slave had been struggling to suppress. The knife was carelessly tossed into the open field, his master not wanting to make the same mistake in leaving a weapon within Iruka's reach. _

"_Well, let's play!" Masaki screamed out again, giving Iruka barely enough time to catch his breath, as a heavy boot slammed into his back with so much force it had knocked the air from his lungs again. Before having chance to react, it came again._

"_Because the sooner you get it into that thick head of yours!" Masaki suddenly growled through clenching teeth, anger ruling over any sense he tried to put into his words. "You're no match for me, boy! You never were!" _

_The sheer power behind both Masaki's weight and temper had Iruka feeling as though he was being crushed over and over by a ton of bricks as his master's leather boot repeatedly slammed and kicked into his own frail body. His throat felt as though the tender muscles were about to tear apart from the strain he was putting on them through his screaming. He had no idea when it would end. _

_The final swing from his master's boot struck him straight in the jaw. With the slave's hands desperately trying to guard his ribs and hip where the blows had been previously aimed, he had left his face open to attack. A choked gasp shot past his lips at the crunch that followed, a stray wisdom tooth now clattering along his inner teeth. The force behind the kick had turned his head to face the field, eyes wide in utter shock. It took a moment for him to snap back into reality, feeling a sudden leakage of warm blood that spilled past his lips as he dribbled it out along with the tooth. His entire body felt as though it was on fire, a stinging, burning pain that only intensified as the realisation that it was over sank in, his own adrenaline fading. _

_He could hear Masaki panting heavily behind him, his master probably staring at the mess he had made in deciding of whether it was enough – though whether that meant Iruka learning his lesson, or that the thrill of revenge had diminished, the slave wasn't sure. _

"_Get up!" Masaki hissed under his irregular breaths, finally beginning to calm down. "I'm going to make a fucking example of you!" _

_Iruka had known deep in his heart that this wasn't over, for what he had done had seriously threatened Masaki's pride; caught off guard, attacked by his own slave, and with his own weapon too. Iruka could sense the intention in his master's voice, knowing that Masaki was determined to ensure he had taken back every single bit of control, and remind the slave of his place. _

_He was in far too much trouble now to even consider trying to fight Masaki off. He was in too much pain right now to endure anymore than was necessary from his master's judgment, and so he slowly pulled himself up, sparing himself the consequence of making things worse. Every joint along his back sent sharp jolts of pain up his spine within each movement he made. The tender skin around his hips throbbed unbearably, along with the torn skin around his teeth and inner cheek. When slapping a hand on the ground for balance, he realised the two fingers on his left hand had been pushed out of place from his attempt of blocking, another source of pain he had only just noticed._

_Masaki's dark eyes watched him carefully, more than ready to react if the slave tried anything. Iruka was almost convinced that was what his master was hoping for, as though it had taken the man every ounce of strength to feel satisfied that he'd done enough damage. _

_Masaki pressed his hand over the torn flesh in his shoulder to stop his bleeding, stifling a wince from the sharp pain there. With his free hand, he grabbed hold of the slave's thin arm and jerked him close, then headed back towards sheds. _

_The pain was excruciating, making it almost impossible for Iruka to keep up with his master's pace without making it worse. This only resulted in another bitter remark and harsh tug from Masaki, who was in no way prepared to offer any form of empathy towards Iruka's own doing; it was his own stupid fault. _

_Iruka's vision had turned blurry again, the slave still dizzy from the heavy blow to his jaw. In the distance, he saw a white light from behind the tree branches near the sheds. He blinked slowly, staggering across the tree roots and sharp stones as Masaki led him closer to it. As they moved closer, he managed to make out the outline of a person behind the light, and a female voice call at them. _

"_What the hell's going on?" _

_Iruka squinted as they walked closer to the sheds, finally recognizing the female maid standing just beside the door to Masaki's building, dressed in her night robe and shivering from head to toe. She was pointing a flash light into the field, staring at the two men in shock. Masaki grunted under his breath, and, once reaching the sheds, threw the slave across the stony ground. Iruka was quick to catch his fall, guarding his injured flesh with his hands and knees, though careful to spare his broken fingers. _

"_Look what the bastard did!" Masaki shouted at the maid, signalling at the red-stained material across his shoulder, before he pointed accusingly at Iruka, dark eyes still glaring at the wide-eyed female. _

_She stole a glance of Iruka with questioning brows, as if genuinely disbelieving of the slave's stupidity. _

"_He goes without tomorrow!" Masaki bluntly announced. "I am absolutely sick of him!"_

_He turned to Iruka, nose flared up as he struggled to contain himself. _

"_You wanna behave like an animal? Then I'll fucking treat you like one! I have been nothing but generous to you and this," lifting a blood-stained hand, "Is how you repay me!" _

_Despite knowing he was beyond doubt in a lot of trouble, Iruka glared at Masaki through scorning eyes, unable to hide his own fury at his master's cheap and easy attack towards his weakness; food. Though inwardly, he was afraid of whether 'tomorrow' meant the next day too, and the day after that, depending on whether Masaki felt he had finally paid the penalty. It was the punishment every slave dreaded, as the days were always longer, harder and more… hopeless, especially when hearing those slaves next door grunt in pleasure as they scoffed down their slice. _

_He received a long, bold, challenging stare of disgust, a familiar trait Masaki showed; refusing to be beaten, even in the slightest by the vile creature that depended on him for a life - especially this particular slave, who never seemed able to grasp the fact that his fate rested entirely in his master's hands, and could be taken away in a split second. Sometimes it was difficult to decide whether the slave was just stubborn, or simply stupid. _

_Even without a weapon, Iruka had always found a way of threatening Masaki's pride, something his master probably refused to admit even to himself. It was the hatred in the slave's eyes that made it evident there was something still there, a spirit and soul instead of the bodily 'machine' eventually programmed into nothing but fear and obedience. One last, tiny piece of dignity hidden so deep inside it was almost impossible to reach and scratch at. It was what had always made Iruka the rare, sly, sneaky and daring character that gave him the courage to do what he did tonight and Masaki couldn't stand that. No matter how hard he tried to hide that feeling of humiliation at being outsmarted by this creature, it was still there, making him look nothing like the slave owner he relished being known as, and ruining his reputation that travelled these lands in recommendation. He simply would not be beaten. _

_The hard stare suddenly vanished from his face, replaced with a cocky smirk and amused snort, as he came to the answer of reminding the slave who was in control, and who always would be. _

"_I've got a better idea," he murmured, glancing over to the maid, as the slave hung on every word spoken. "Give him a wash, will you?" _

_The maid blinked, unsure whether he was being serious. "What, now? It's one in the morning…?" she questioned, while subtly gesturing to the robe still hanging from her shoulders._

"_Just do it!" Masaki growled, turning back to the slave in resentment. "He's stinking out my sheds." _

_She gave a small, tired nod. "Of course, Masaki-san."_

_Iruka watched behind hooded lids as his master then turned on his heel and walked into the house, presumably to deal with the wound on his shoulder. His entire being suddenly filled with dread, completely uncertain as to what that snort had been about – what this idea was that Masaki had just put together. _

_He heard a long sigh from the maid, as she tightened up her night robe and approached him. _

"_Stupid boy!" she hissed under her breath, obviously irritated at being kept awake. Stopping before him, she raised a thin brow at the sight of his fingers, then glanced to his blood stained jaw. _

_She shot him a dark look of warning. _

"_You do as I say, and I'll try and talk to Masaki tomorrow about getting that looked at – right?" her voice as blunt as usual, but the small ounce of concern this woman often showed had never gone unnoticed by Iruka, something that had naturally trained him to try and stay on her good side for the sake of his own survival. _

_He had never understood the exact dealings between herself and Masaki, though one could guess it was the wage size these secret businesses offered – either that, or simply blackmail. _

_He nodded in agreement, relaxing every muscle in his body to prove to the woman he had no intentions of trying anything, though even she probably knew that he wouldn't get very far anyway in his state. Satisfied, the maid took a firm but reasonably gentle hold of his arm, allowing him to use her frame to pull himself up. _

_The sudden weight against his thighs as he stood to his feet sent a couple more drops of blood trickling down the skin, but the pain had numbed a little. It was mainly due to the cold breeze, but also due to Iruka's mind now intently focused on what Masaki was planning. He gave the maid his hands before being told to, settling himself into position against the two wooden poles, trying to make the inevitable ordeal coming up as easy as he could possibly make it._

_Chained up against the two poles, he tried to calm himself to think logically, knowing that panicking would only make things even worse for himself. His eyes were solely focused on Masaki's building, trying to catch a glimpse in the lit-up windows for any signs that could tell him what was happening, to prepare himself for the inevitable. _

_By now, the regret had truly hit him, and he wished he could take it back, or at least have known the reality of disadvantage he was at. He thought Masaki was tired enough to outrun. He thought those extra clumps of bread would have given him a little more energy to move faster. He thought he would be strong enough to have managed the shovel's weight properly. _

_The cold water at his back had him flinching in startle and gasping in pain from the small pieces of torn flesh, but he tensed his muscles hard and waited for the temperature to numb his skin. The method was quicker than usual, the maid obviously wanting to be done with the chore and get back to bed as quickly as possible. He could see by the stolen glimpses of her face that she knew he was in a lot of trouble, though perhaps convincing herself out of habit that it wasn't her problem. Her approach had filled Iruka's entire being with absolute horror when he was younger and had first come here - to learn that she could just abandon and let him face whatever punishment he'd earned. But as he'd grown up, the true reality of how cowardly adults really were behind their experienced and wise eyes had taught him to never depend on such a thing. He was on his own. _

_The sound of the door clicking open caught Iruka's attention, and he watched Masaki step out of the doorway, while spitting out drops of water he'd caught to clean the blood from his mouth. As his master approached, Iruka immediately glanced down to see what was flashing under the moonlight in Masaki's hands; a pair of chains, though this time, they were missing the length of links that gave enough room for freedom. _

_His master wore a wide grin on his lips; all sign of offense towards the slave's crime apparently vanished, now that he had chosen his revenge. _

_He turned to the maid. "Go and open up shed 7, and remove the chains from their hooks." _

_She was quick to comply, as always, eager to stay on the business man's good side. _

_Realisation slowly began to creep in as Iruka watched her approach the sheds, his wide eyes fixed on the numbered door, and he inhaled a deep breath of air through his nose. He could feel Masaki's eyes on him, almost able to smell the sense of self-victory dripping off his master as the score was being settled between them. _

"_Now," Masaki's hot breath stroked against his damp neck, sending shivers along his spine. "Let's hope you'll have learned a valuable lesson from this," _

_The cuff was locked around one wrist before the chain was unattached from the pole, ensuring a good grip on the slave's arm. _

"_I will not be beaten." _

_As the master felt his pride grow, the slave felt his heart sink, recognizing the message behind Masaki's words that he would be respected and feared – that Iruka would never try a stunt like that again. _

"_You will never disrespect me like that again." _

_He unlocked the second chain, and then swiftly locked connected slave's wrist to the second cuff behind his back. _

_Iruka had frozen between the two poles, staring at the open doorway of the shed as the maid had entered the dark room to arrange the chains inside. His stomach twisted with dread as he tried to figure out exactly what was going on, hating the concept of not knowing and being able to prepare himself, though he knew that was what Masaki wanted, to create his fear for the unknown. His master grabbed an arm and tugged him away from the poles, and towards the shed. Seeing no other way out, and wanting to avoid making things worse for himself, Iruka staggered beside him, still shivering slightly from the cold breeze against his dripping skin. _

_The maid then stepped out of the doorway and glanced up at Masaki in expectance, receiving a small nod in permission for her to go back to bed. She gave Iruka one last look, though it wasn't one of sympathy, but merely the look of knowing what he was in for. Iruka's eyes followed her steps in worry, before he daringly looked to look into the dark shed. _

_A figure shifted in the shadows, slowly sitting up in sign of having just woken. Under the very faint light, Iruka could see the thin, shadowed lines painted across the man's rib area, no muscle or fat, but merely bones poking out against the skin. From where he was standing, he could see the fine bones shift underneath the slave's shoulders and arms, and the weak, yellow eyes slowly lifting to see Iruka's face sent another twist to the brunet's stomach. _

_It was evident from the focused stare in those tired, yellow eyes that this slave was expecting some form of demand from his master, but as his eyes lowered to see Iruka's naked, shivering body, it became apparent he was not up for a client's viewing. Iruka could hear a low, deep growling noise with every breath the slave exhaled, though quickly realised the noise was coming from deep within the slave's lungs, a chest infection every slave often struggled to fight off. From the extremely still and silent position, Iruka could tell that this slave had been here a while, as he knew himself the strength it took to stay so exceedingly calm when Masaki entered the sheds at an unexpected time of night – it was something every slave had to train themselves in order to avoid being at the receiving end of whatever had pissed Masaki off. _

"_I don't believe you two have met," Masaki announced incredulously, clammy fingers tightening around Iruka's tense arm. "Shou, this is Sai - Sai, Shou," he gestured to the slave in the shed. "And we have something to tell Shou, don't we?"_

Masaki's dark eyes snapped over to Iruka, tightening in dangerous amusement towards Iruka's confusion. He turned back to face Shou, the other slave just as bewildered as Iruka.

"_You won't be having any food tomorrow, Shou," Masaki declared, raising a dark brow. "Do you know why?" _

_The slave's yellow eyes widened in horror at the announcement, his face suddenly pale as though he'd been told his own grave had been buried for him outside. Unable to comprehend the reason for such punishment, his eyes naturally looked back to Iruka, tightening._

_Iruka felt the blood rush from his face, his entire body frozen in complete shock as he began to realise what Masaki was doing. _

"_About two hours ago, Sai here, sneaked into the kitchen of my home, and stole the bread you were supposed to have tomorrow, and ate it," Masaki shrugged, offering a sarcastic look of sympathy. "So there's none for you tomorrow now…" _

_Iruka went dizzy, trying to gather Masaki's words and put them together. It was then that he realised the reason the chains had been unhooked from the wall – to give the slave access to every inch of the room. Real fear surged through him as the slave glared at him with such a sinister look, yellow, chipped teeth flashing, nose flaring up in fury towards the slave who had taken away the very thing he needed to survive. He was furious and had every right to be, because Iruka knew he would react the same way if the roles were reversed. It was how they needed to be to stay alive. _

"_Well," Masaki broke the extremely tense silence with a smirk. "I guess I'll let you both settle this little 'mishap' yourselves." _

_Iruka immediately stepped back, moving as far away from the door as possible while shaking his head with a pleading refusal towards his master. Masaki simply stared at him in expectancy. _

"_Come here, Sai." _

_Iruka shook his head weakly, arms fidgeting violently behind his back in a hopeful attempt of breaking the cuffs attached to his wrists. His eyes began to water in deep fear, knowing unlike Masaki, there would be no limit to the beating he would receive from the slave in the shed._

_Masaki raised a thick brow in impatience, and Iruka followed through with his last resort, dropping to his knees and lowering his form in the most submissive position he could muster – anything but to go inside that shed, which he doubted he would come out of alive. _

_Masaki froze for a second, taken back by the reaction he'd never seen before from this slave. However, the sight sent a thrill to his stomach, unable to help but relish the pride he felt, especially when he heard that whimper of desperation muffled against the stony ground Iruka's face was pressed into. _

"_Come here now, or I'll make this worse for you." his master hissed through gritted teeth. "One." _

_Iruka inhaled a shaky breath of air. _

"_Two."_

_A tear slipped down his face. _

"_Three." _

_The sound of his master's heavy footsteps thumped along with his heartbeat, and he screamed in agony when a knee slammed into his bruised back, pinning him to the ground. _

"_You never fucking learn, do you?" Masaki laughed bitterly, fishing out a long piece of cloth from his pocket. _

_The cloth was tied around the slave's face as a blindfold, the promise of disciplining the disobedience kept, as he took away Iruka's last weapon against the other slave. Iruka cried silently into the ground; hating the thought of doing so, but unable to hold back his terror. A loud shout slipped past his lips, sounding like a scream but intended as a word. He felt himself being ripped away from the floor, every torn and bruised muscle in his body screaming at him in agony, and knowing there was more to come. He growled deeply and hissed, attempting another method to try and scare his master by snapping his jaws in the direction he heard Masaki breathing. His master only laughed with an "oh no you don't," and dragged the slave to the doorway, before giving him a hard kick to the back, forcing him inside. _

_The slave fell straight to the ground on his face, muscles clearly tensed as he trembled in fear, hands clenched tightly into stiff fists. His heart was beating so hard he could hear it, as he listened to his surroundings, trying to pinpoint where the other slave was. _

_And then that ear-piercing screech hit his consciousness, and a hand fisted his hair, dragging him closer to the cold flesh that straddled him. Sharp fingernails raked across his skin, chipped teeth sinking into his shoulder to peel back some of the flesh, another hand ripping out clumps of hair. He bucked and twisted and wriggled, kicking his legs in every direction possible while screaming out at the top of his lungs for Masaki, but was soon responded with a quiet click of the door, his master already bored with the show. _

_He could do nothing but wait for the other slave to tire himself out, but only a mere minute had passed by and he wasn't sure how much he could take. He could feel the slave's fingernails sinking into his shoulder, holding him in place and sending an excruciating burning sensation to the surface of his skin. _

"_Sai!"_

He suddenly flinched so hard, he felt himself collapse against the floor again. He froze, feeling a warm, soft material against the palms of his hands.

"A-Are you… awake?" a quiet, hesitant voice reached his ears, and he felt the gentlest of touches to his shoulder.

Eyes opening, he stared hazily into the darkness, watching the shadowed face in front of him slowly shift in his focus. It was his new master, crouched down beside the bed and gazing at him with a concerned eye. Despite his previous, wary thoughts towards Kakashi, a strange feeling of relief rushed through him as he took a glance of the room, remembering where he was.

Kakashi slowly removed his hand to return the slave his comfort zone, and also wipe away the thin pool of blood at the back of his hand where Iruka had clawed at him.

"You were dreaming again," he whispered, and glanced at the blanket that the slave had managed to twist around himself in his sleep, the material trapped underneath his weight.

Very carefully, he began to gently tug at and uncoil the blanket from Iruka, wondering if it was worth just letting the slave sleep without it for now, and instead provide warmer clothing and socks. They were obviously moving too quickly with the sleeping arrangements; even if it was just a bed and a blanket, there was so much that Iruka was struggling to adapt to, and Kakashi could see that they needed to slow down a little and tackle each change at a time.

Iruka stared numbly at the sheets, trying to chase away the vivid memory with the sight of his new master's presence in the corner of his eye.

That was the first and only time he had attempted to escape, a lesson well learned on Iruka's behalf, as he realised how cunning and cruel Masaki could be if pushed hard enough; to use another slave as a weapon against him, who knew of no limits to how ruthless they could be if provoked. It was the only time Iruka had ever needed severe medical attention in his master's premises, and after all these years, he still couldn't understand why Masaki had paid money to keep him alive.

Kakashi could hear the small, shaky breaths leaving Iruka's lips as the slave tried to wash away whatever chain of events or memories had interrupted his sleep. It bothered Kakashi a lot that Masaki was still taunting Iruka in that way. He wished he knew how to help, but the communication between them was so poor, and he feared he would only make things worse if he tried.

He didn't understand why Iruka wouldn't talk to him, or what the slave feared he may lose if he tried. His silver brows knitted as he tried to figure it out. He glanced back at Iruka, and licked his dry lips underneath his mask.

"Please talk to me?" he quietly pleaded, noticing a flicker of surprise in the slave's eyes at his tone. "Tell me what's bothering you? I want to know… I might be able to help…"

Knowing how important it was to keep a strong expression in his features for Iruka to read him better, he allowed his genuine concern to show in his eye. The slave looked away nervously, or at least, that was what Kakashi had thought. After a short silence, Iruka licked his lips and parted them, oblivious to the sudden clenching in Kakashi's throat as the jounin stared in anticipation. But all that came out was a quiet click from the slave's tongue, followed by a strange gurgling noise from right at the back of the man's throat.

Kakashi raised a thin brow in confusion, noticing a sudden look of frustration flash through Iruka's eyes as the slave licked his lips again and gave another attempt, the room once again filled with an echoed click from his tongue.

It was then that Kakashi realised the reason Iruka hadn't spoken a word to him. It was not because he didn't want to, but because he couldn't. With a soft frown, he focused on the slave's tongue as Iruka tried again, observing the way it failed to find the correct shapes to sound out the words he was looking for. Kakashi had never seen anything like it. The previous slaves he'd transferred to the orphanage suffered with difficulty of speaking, which was why he had organized special classes for them to grasp back the ability, but they had never been as incapable as this slave. Kakashi assumed it was because of starvation that the ability to speak merely used up to much energy to do, eventually making the muscle lazy - it made sense, as he clearly remembered Masaki stating that Iruka had been with him for _years. _

A strong sense of guilt pierced through his heart as Kakashi wondered how many times Iruka may had wanted to tell him something before, and the jounin had brushed it off and accused the slave of being stubborn.

He swallowed thickly and offered the slave a weak smile of reassurance. "It's alright. I understand,"

Iruka gently chewed at his bottom lip, staring at his master with a subtle look of determination, as though there was indeed something he wanted to say. With permission given to speak freely, he tried to communicate another way, and placed a hand to his stomach with a pleading stare.

Kakashi blinked, following the movement with his eye. "You… want some food?" he quickly guessed, and received a hesitant nod.

Kakashi inwardly cursed, knowing that he needed to reward Iruka for finding the courage to ask for something like that, otherwise it would more than likely result in another misunderstanding inside the slave's fragile mind. He didn't want to give the slave any more food than he could handle, but declining the request may do more damage than it was really worth, as he knew how easily Iruka could thicken the walls between them.

"Alright, just this once," he agreed, figuring that the need for food was more for the comfort of it than the feeling of being fed. He would let it slide just this once, but then they would strictly go back to the 'three meals a day' routine.

He led Iruka down the stairs, switching on lights in their passing as they made their way to the kitchen. Sitting the slave down at the table, Kakashi then opened the fridge with a yawn, tired eyes lazily raking over the contents for something suitable.

"Would you like a drink?" he asked, turning to Iruka with a tired smile.

Eyes wide, Iruka quickly nodded with a silent gasp, as though he could not believe his luck.

Pouring a fair amount of orange juice, Kakashi placed the glass down on the table, before returning to the fridge where he knelt down to peek at the back of the drawers. Iruka sipped at his drink, washing the orange flavour around his mouth, while watching his master curiously. A stray glass bottle of sauce sat on the top drawer caught Iruka's eye as it rattled gently on its surface, with his master knelt at the bottom trying to reach for something. Iruka clamped his lips together awkwardly, foreseeing the result as Kakashi tiredly rummaged through condiments he never knew he had.

Feeling a little uneasy, Iruka clicked his tongue to try and signal his master, which only caught Kakashi's attention as the jounin withdrew his head from inside the fridge. The timing was perfect, as the bottle tipped from its shelf and hit Kakashi hard on the head. Iruka cringed as his master yelped and threw his hands on his head, the bottle smashing beside him on the floor.

Kakashi whined in misery, tired and stressed and now throbbing in pain. He looked over to Iruka, and sensed a small tension, the slave now probably thinking he was angry. Despite the dull throbbing at his temple, Kakashi let out an amused chuckle and rolled his eyes at his own stupidity.

"Oops..." He laughed, and to his surprise, Iruka's lips twitched into a light smirk, the slave seeing the funny side too.

Finally finding his handy jar of raspberry jam, he buttered a single slice of bread and spread on the jam, before folding it in half, figuring it would be enough to satisfy Iruka for the rest of the night. He set the plate down and quickly cleaned up the mess on the floor, eager to get back to bed as soon as possible.

Iruka was not at all fussy with what was given to him; he tucked into the sandwich with half-lidded eyes in bliss, savouring every mouthful. Kakashi didn't lecture the desperate-looking method, believing that by the time Iruka had settled in, the food given should begin to be taken for granted, as, in the civilized society, it should be.

Kakashi kept his eyes on the table, giving Iruka as much time and space as he needed to feel better. He listened to the quiet humming noises as the slave ate, wondering what the slave's voice may sound like now that he was grown up. He tried to imagine it from Iruka's humming, wondering if he ever would be able to hear it again.

When Iruka was finished, he eyed the plate temptingly, wanting to lap up the rest of the jam, but caught a glance of Kakashi's warning look, the jounin knowing exactly what he was thinking.

"Back to bed now," Kakashi announced, inwardly hopeful to catch up some more sleep himself.

Iruka nodded and looked at his plate, then over to the sink. Kakashi raised a silver brow as the slave picked up the empty plate and glass and carried them over to the sink, mimicking actions he'd watched from Kakashi. Kakashi couldn't help his fascination, genuinely interested with how the slave worked, and how quickly he could pick up on things. To the average person, it was a daily task that would barely be taken notice of, but to Kakashi, it was the evidence that Iruka had the capability of learning from him – that maybe he could learn to speak again one day.

x—

Kakashi chose to follow through with his decision and folded up the blanket at the end of the bed in case Iruka wanted it during the night. After a brief explanation towards the change of plans, he redressed Iruka into a thicker pair of pyjamas and some warm, wooly socks.

Iruka climbed back onto the bed with a yawn, making Kakashi yawn, as well as the tired jounin waited for the slave to get comfortable. He frowned when he caught sight of a red, sticky substance clinging to the stands of Iruka's hair, probably from the jam he'd just eaten.

"I'll be back in a second," he whispered, and quickly disappeared into the bathroom, returning with a couple of squares of tissue.

"Can you sit up a minute?"

Bewildered, Iruka slowly sat up with knitted brows, eyeing the tissue as his master approached him. He tensed slightly as Kakashi took hold of his hair, unsure on what his master was doing, but the gentle touch didn't go unnoticed, and he allowed himself to relax a little. As Kakashi attempted to rid of the jam, Iruka took a moment to look at the man's face, or rather, what could be seen of it.

His master looked tired, yet appearing to show a cheery mood, as though he hadn't at all minded being woken up in the middle of the night. He was nothing like the master Iruka had thought him to be, or like the master Masaki had described him as. It was as though he had been bought and taken in by a completely different person, and Iruka began to wonder if Masaki had been wrong about Kakashi, or if the fat man had just lied. It was so difficult to understand, especially when Iruka had witnessed for himself the fear Masaki had for Kakashi, but as he felt the man's gentle hands on his hair, he allowed himself for a moment to wonder if he had really been as lucky as he felt, to have been picked out individually amongst the other slaves in the sheds by someone as gentle and generous as this man seemed to be.

Finally removing the jam, Kakashi quickly took a moment to look through the rest of Iruka's hair for any stray pieces of food, a sudden sense of worry rising to the surface of his mind as he realised the next bath session may happen a lot sooner than they were both ready for.

Part of him had almost hoped that if he didn't pay attention to it, it may not need to happen, but deep down he knew the time would come again where he would have to force Iruka again, because there was simply no way of persuading the slave. He considered the possibility of using his sharingan to keep him under a deep sleep while he quickly washed the man, but the method would completely defeat the purpose of showing Iruka that it was merely a daily routine and not some form of punishment.

Too exhausted, he decided to worry about it tomorrow, and gave the pillow a light pat to gesture the man to lie down.

Iruka complied, snuggling into the warm mattress.

"Good night." Kakashi whispered with a smile, and quietly left the room, leaving the door a couple of inches open.

Iruka was out like a light by the time Kakashi had reached the bottom of the stairs, no longer kept awake by his hunger now that he was in Kakashi's care.

Kakashi wasn't far behind, his own stress behind the recent events with the new slave finally catching up with him, and he fell asleep as soon as his head touched the pillow, distantly thinking over their plan for tomorrow.


	5. Chapter 5

A/N: As always, thanks so much for reading and posting reviews; I cherish every one of them.

x—

Kakashi felt a little more refreshed by the time the sun rose. The past two days had almost drained him from his energy, having had barely enough sleep the night before, as he needed to stay constantly alert to ensure that Iruka was safe and as comfortable as he could be. Having also returned from his mission on the same day he visited Masaki, he'd hardly had time to fully 'recharge,' and so he had allowed himself the rare luxury of a deep sleep, trusting that Iruka was in the same sleeping state too.

He had to admit that when he had first decided to take Iruka in, he hadn't entirely anticipated the real amount of effort and care he would need to put in, and the time he would need to sacrifice to offer the slave the best quality of a new start. He had never realised just how much damage Masaki had done to his slaves, having never really been around them for long, as they were quickly taken to the orphanage and looked after by more experienced and qualified people in that area.

It was exhausting having to analyze every single word spoken before Iruka had the chance to misinterpret what he had originally meant, having to try out different tones inside his head and then pick out which voice sounded the most gentle, and more importantly, genuine. It was almost becoming a habit now to the point where Kakashi would misread Iruka's expressions as well, making the poor quality of communication even worse as their signals crossed and managed to twist themselves. But having not long woken from a deep sleep, Kakashi felt more positive about today, figuring that the lack of sleep had probably made him agitated and brought on the worrying in the first place.

As he searched through the cupboards in the kitchen, he began writing down items he needed to stock up on, while thinking up different types of foods he could buy that Iruka may enjoy. He crossed off any spicy foods from his shopping budget, replacing them with a variety of flavored soups, ramen, and plenty of orange juice. He worked out an appropriate balance in different food groups, wanting to introduce a propper diet to improve on Iruka's health, and hopefully boost up the slave's energy a little so he could last longer during the day without feeling so tired.

Setting the shopping list down on the counter, he then took two slices of bread from its bag and placed them in the toaster, while looking around the small shelves for any more ideas on bits and pieces he could buy.

As he set the plates down, Kakashi heard the faintest of creaks from the ceiling, an indication that Iruka was awake and obviously aware that breakfast was next in this daily routine.

Kakashi hadn't set foot near the room Iruka was staying in all morning, wanting to bear out the point he had made that the slave could come downstairs whenever he pleased, and not when given permission. He wanted to be sure that Iruka understood this – that there was no trick, game or catch to allowing that access – and if he understood, he would (hopefully) find little hesitation in acting on his own free will.

_He's thinking about it,_ Kakashi thought, as he heard the door upstairs slowly creak open, followed by an awkward, indecisive silence. A smile then formed on Kakashi's lips when he soon heard foot steps approach the top of the stairs, unable to help but feel proud of the progress they had made in such short amount of time. He opened the fridge to find the butter and jam, his attention solely on the quiet noises at the stairs, mentally encouraging Iruka to find his confidence and come down.

When the bread popped up from the toaster, a collection of loud thumps suddenly echoed along the stairway, the slave's excitement seeming to overrule his own caution.

Kakashi paid little attention, giving off the realistic impression that Iruka's decision to change locations on his own accord was not at all a big deal. He didn't want to keep rewarding the slave for making and acting out his own choices, as the less attention he paid, the more it would become a mere habbit rather than an encouraged special occasion – or at least, that's what he hoped would happen. Quite frankly, the inexperienced care-worker was just guessing each step they took, and hoping for the best result in progress.

As soon as Iruka stepped into the doorway, his eyes darted around the kitchen counter, searching for a glimpse of what food was being served. Noticing the toast being buttered by his master, he shivered in excitement, mouth watering at the smell that followed.

Kakashi glanced at the younger man and smiled fondly.

"Good morning, Sai," he used a cheerful voice to indicate his pleasant surprise at the slave's presence, wanting to offer some subtle praise towards a well-made decision. "Did you sleep alright?"

Iruka's eyes were torn between Kakashi and the food, apparently struggling to divide his attention with his breakfast laid out in front of him. He nodded faintly, the question barely reaching his ears.

Kakashi shrugged it off, already aware of the slave's relationship with food and taking no offense towards it. His smile never left his eye, the jounin extremely cautious of the importance his expressions held.

"Are you ready for your breakfast?"

He received a fast nod and a small smile of excitement – an immense difference compared to the undignified pleading stare Kakashi had been given on their first day together. It warmed Kakashi's heart to know that Iruka was beginning to recognize the food pattern now, and what's more, that desperate look had vanished from the slave's eyes, as though he was beginning to trust Kakashi's word that he would never miss a meal. It was surprisingly rewarding to Kakashi, as he now wondered if he really did have what it takes to look after this man, and gain some trust between them.

Iruka quickly made his way to the table, impatient eyes following the plate as Kakashi set it down in front of him. Almost out of habbit, Kakashi gave the man's hair a quick and light ruffle, wanting the slave to get used to the subtle physical contact. Iruka barely noticed the touch, his attention fully taken by his breakfast as he began to dig in. Again, it was such a difference to the first time Kakashi had fed the man; he could feel a little more ease from the slave, who was no longer guarding his plate from the man who had given it to him, or watching him carefully with distrusting eyes.

He returned Iruka his privacy, setting down a glass of orange juice before taking a seat at the other end of the table to continue his shopping list, having already eaten his breakfast earlier.

With Iruka's attention on his meal, Kakashi stole a glance of the man, observing his tanned skin and dark hair, which was already showing signs of needing washing again from the amount of food stuck to its strands. The slave's skin was starting to look a little healthier now that the dark bruises were fading, though it still looked a incredibly dry, presumably from the poor diet the slave had been under. Kakashi took note of it by scribbling down a choice of lotion on his shopping list, preferably one for sensitive skin.

He felt a little more confident now that they'd both had time to get used to each other a little, though he was still very conscious of the amount of care he needed to put into Iruka's wellbeing. Thus, he needed to plan this next bathing session extremely carefully by cutting the length of the session into small little steps to overcome. He wanted Iruka to see for himself that there was no danger in the process, that no harm would come to him, and the only way he could do so was to keep pressing the matter instead of avoiding it with an alternative.

However, Kakashi was in no way prepared to force Iruka again, as it was clear the problem was a lot deeper than the jounin had assumed. He'd thought it was merely because Iruka hadn't been introduced to the method in Masaki's sheds, but to see the slave lose consciousness as an almost last resort told him there was more to it. No matter how desperate Kakashi was to make this bath session happen, he was not going to cause any more torment for the man.

He needed to find a way to have Iruka step into the bath tub on the slave's own terms, and the only thing Kakashi could think right now was to offer a reward at the end of it – something that would be worth the 'ordeal.' But the only thing Iruka seemed willing to do anything for was food, and Kakashi wasn't sure he could handle the look of utter devastation in Iruka's eyes if (when) he failed to win over his food, regardless of already being fed.

He pondered over it in silence as Iruka finished his toast, glancing up when the slave suddenly stood up from his chair. His mismatched eyes watched in fascination, as the slave repeated the courtesy of taking his plate over to the sink.

"Thank you, Sai," he remembered to say, giving the man another soft smile. "That was very kind of you."

He received an amusing blank stare, as though Iruka wasn't quite sure if he was the one being spoken to. It was expected to see the slave uncertain on how to take a compliment, as Kakashi couldn't imagine Masaki taking the time or care to show any appreciation towards his slaves, and so the jounin slotted the gesture into his memory, reminding himself to compliment the slave more often. Maybe it would do Iruka a lot of good, as it could grow a little more self worth in Iruka's psyche – perhaps even hint a sign of equality between them.

Before Iruka reached his seat, Kakashi picked up some prepared tissue from the side.

"Could you come here a minute, please?" He smiled at the man's confused blink, lifting the tissue to show the man it was all he had in his hand. "I just want to wipe your face…"

Iruka slowly nodded and approached, the jounin standing from his chair. Kakashi sensed the slave tense underneath his towering frame, an instinctive reaction that he was sure would disappear once the man had settled in a little more. Ever so gently, he dabbed the man's face to wipe away the remains of his breakfast, stopping in alert when he heard a sudden, strange squeak leave Iruka's lips, the slave's shoulders flinching.

Kakashi blinked, suddenly chuckling. "Maa, you shouldn't eat your food so fast," he joked, "You'll be hiccupping all over the place,"

He saw a flicker of something in Iruka's eyes, an emotion he'd never seen before as the slave looked away with the faintest of shy smiles. It warmed Kakashi's heart for so many reasons, as he was delighted to see Iruka taking the courage to crawl out of his comfort zone. But he also caught the slight blush in the man's face, a rare sign of humanity he wished he had tried to provoke before, because the slave truly looked adorable.

He could see that they were getting somewhere. The slave was constantly focusing on his Kakashi's signals; whether it was a friendly joke or a smile in his eye, it gave Iruka a source of communication to know how his master was feeling in order to know how to behave. Kakashi was starting to learn that from the man, and seeing that little expression of embarrassment inspired him to keep up the affection, jokes, and praise in hopes of breaking entirely through the slave's walls.

But he knew he also needed to be firm in order to teach Iruka the rules on how to behave in this new location, and he wanted to start by allowing the slave to accompany him on this shopping trip. Despite the progress they'd made on their own, he didn't want to keep the man locked inside the house due to his own selfish fears of being spotted by a familiar face. Iruka was entitled to regular fresh air, exercise, new scenery, and sunlight – it would probably do the man a world of good, and so Kakashi decided to put his own reasons aside and risk it, hoping that the genin the village once knew had passed too long ago for his face to be recognized.

He gestured for Iruka to sit back down, taking his own seat again.

"We're going out again today," he said, catching the brunet's attention at the unexpected announcement. "We're running out of food, so I need to buy some more,"

After a small pause, Iruka slowly nodded in understanding.

Kakashi raised a soft but stern brow, as he finished mentally rehearsing his lines, knowing that he had to set down the rules again to ensure Iruka stuck to them.

"The same rules apply as last time; you need to _listen_ to my instructions and stay by my side, okay? No wandering off or taking anything that doesn't belong to you. If there's something you want, bring it to me, and I will get it for you, understand?" he used a strict, but gentle tone, trying to keep his approach firm, yet fair.

Iruka nodded again in compliance, already recognizing the general idea of behaviour his master wanted from their previous trip.

Kakashi smiled. "You did very well last time, Sai-kun. I was very pleased with your behaviour. I'd like to see that good behaviour from you again. Do you think you can do that?"

It was strangely both fascinating and uncomfortable to watch the slave struggle taking such a compliment, as he seemed to not know how to respond to it. Kakashi couldn't help pity the man, but it also gave him a spark of hope that maybe Iruka would begin to grasp that he was in completely different place now and for the better. He chose to resist pressing the matter further, wanting Iruka to trust his own instincts when that realisation finally dropped.

"Okay," He nodded. "Let's get you dressed for shopping."

It would be fine; they just needed to keep as much attention away from them as possible, and that meant there was absolutely no way he could let Iruka act up. He needed the slave to be on his best behaviour.

Tricky – in a civilized society, Iruka didn't even know what 'best behaviour' was.

x—

After dressing Iruka into some underwear and bottoms, he had allowed the slave to choose a shirt from the collection he had bought yesterday, in which the younger man had chosen the plain black shirt he'd individually picked out in the shop. The method of giving Iruka various options seemed to be having a positive effect on the man. Regardless of how minor those options were at times, to Iruka, they were clearly important steps to take in his progress; after years of having his fate sealed in someone else's hands, he was now taking back some control in his own life.

He led Iruka towards the place he mainly shopped at for weekly groceries. While entering the building, he quietly requested the slave to keep his hand firmly clutched to the side of the trolley, not wanting to take any chances in losing the man.

However, he practically lost Iruka's attention as soon as they reached the busy aisles. The amount of people rushing by and trying to squeeze through between them seemed a little overwhelming for the man who hadn't been around so many people at once – for the majority of his life, and Kakashi could see from the deep, steady breaths Iruka was taking that he was trying to stay calm. He quickly fixed the issue by moving Iruka over to the other side of the trolley beside the shelves, where the slave's attention quickly averted to the large amount of packaged food stacked up there.

Kakashi stopped in his tracks, picking out two loaves of bread, before showing them to Iruka.

"You see everything I'm putting in here?" He quickly demonstrated placing them into the trolley.

"These don't belong to us yet – they still belong to this shop, so we can't open them yet. You can look, but no opening, understand?"

Iruka nodded, staring at the items in the trolley, and missing the strange glance they received by an overhearing customer. Caught in a daze, his thoughts drifted to the focus of his next meal, wandering which sort of food lunch would entail, and when his master would be finished here so he could get started on it. The mere thought of it sent a light rumble to his stomach, the sight of so much food laid out at once doing him little favours.

Kakashi ignored the noise altogether, almost certainly confident that any hunger Iruka may be feeling now was merely a habit in his imagination, as the jounin had given him more than enough breakfast this morning.

They moved on through the crowd, turning towards another aisle as Kakashi continued to load the trolley with different types of foods, before they entered the toiletries section.

Complete relief rained over Kakashi when he saw no sign of realisation in Iruka at the sight. The slave probably didn't recognize what anything was due to so many bottles with brand names he'd never been introduced to, and seemed completely unaware that Kakashi intended to repeat this bath session later on.

However, Kakashi wasn't taking any risks; the last thing he wanted was to cause a scene in the shop, and so he decided to give the man a distraction that Iruka surely couldn't resist.

"You've been very good so far, Sai. I'm very pleased," he praised, the young slave meeting his eye with the faintest of smiles.

Kakashi's eye crinkled pleasantly, as he decided to offer the man a very generous proposal.

"I'm putting you in charge of lunch today," he announced, pointing to the variety of ramen pots piled up at the back of the trolley.

"I'd like you to look through these pots and decide which ones we'll be having for lunch, okay? Two pots," he specified, holding up two fingers, "for you and me."

After a long stare and clueless blink, Iruka glanced at the pots in the trolley, before looking back to his master as though asking for Kakashi to repeat what he'd just said.

It had already occurred to Kakashi that this man would probably be incapable of reading anything from those pots, which was why he had chosen something as simple as ramen for a suitable lunch. The point behind this exercise was to press on the matter of choice, and Kakashi could see that the slave was having a hard time digesting that he had just been put in charge of deciding which food was suitable for his master to eat. It was the reaction the jounin had wanted, to knock that theory a little deeper into Iruka's mind that they could be on the same level of equality, while at the same time, distracting the slave while he prepared for the bathing session they would be having later on.

"Can you do that for me?"

Iruka gazed weakly back to the items in the trolley, before slowly dipping a hand inside. His eyes met Kakashi's again, dark brows knitting hesitantly as he lifted up a purple coloured ramen pot in question.

"That's it!" Kakashi encouraged, smile never leaving his eye. "Is that your lunch or mine?"

Iruka frowned at the pot in his hand, having no idea what answer was expected from him.

"You're in charge," Kakashi reminded. "Your choice."

After a long pause, the slave hesitantly pointed at his master.

Kakashi nodded again in approval. "Okay, that one's mine. What about yours? Are you going to pick one out for yourself?"

Iruka looked back at the variety of pots, pink tongue slipping past his lips as he observed the different colours, obviously unaware and unconcerned with whatever ingredients were inside. With a little more confidence, he began to search through the pots, taking his time as he followed through with his master's orders on deciding – for himself – what he wanted to eat.

"Remember, no opening…" Kakashi quietly reminded, turning to the stacked-up shelves that held… too much to choose from, in his opinion.

He carefully went through the different brands of shower gels, searching for ingredients that wouldn't cause itching or burning to the Iruka's skin. Despite the tough impression the deep scars showed, the more intimate parts of the slave's body looked far too unhealthy for Kakashi's judgement. He could only presume it was a result of the lack of fresh air, sunlight or possibly clean water Iruka had been deprived of, or perhaps the poor diet he'd been given for too long.

He picked out the bottles that were labeled as recommended for a child, before repeating the search tactic for some body lotion.

Iruka watched his master with a long, bored stare, the two pots of ramen held in both hands, waiting to show Kakashi what he had chosen. When Kakashi showed no signs of noticing, he turned to glance around at the shop, watching in fascination as various customers passed by. It was a bizarre feeling to have so many people around him, yet no eyes on him; no one studying his face in deciding of his money value. He felt almost invisible; an unusual feeling, but surprisingly calming.

Something caught his eye at the end of the aisle. He froze, staring in astonishment at the bundle of soft toys hanging from the edge of the shelf, one in particular that he struggled to turn his attention from. His heart began to race, as he felt sudden warmth grow inside of him, a strange sense of… nostalgia he hadn't felt in years, forgotten it was even there. He stole a cautious glance of his master, who was still caught in the midst of reading. He looked back to the toy, examining the distance between himself and the item, before taking a deep breath.

Resting the pots back in the trolley, he then approached it; slowly to avoid catching his master's attention until he'd taken a propper look, hands trembling slightly in both nerves and excitement. When finally reaching it, he carefully unclipped the toy from its hanger. He stared at the toy in his hand, examining every tiny detail in its stitching before daring to touch it. The blue, fury material sent a tingling sensation to his fingertips as he stroked the toy, a soft smile curling in his lips at the sudden fluttering in his stomach.

He rolled the toy in his hands, caressing its fur and tracing fingertips along the deep stitching in its long nose. He lifted it to his face, the fur tickling his cheek as he gently nuzzled it. His eyes fell to the floor in a daze, taken by an old, forgotten memory that had been pulled from deep at the back of his mind.

Finally finding a suitable choice of body lotion, Kakashi then turned and, greeted by an empty space where Iruka was standing only moments ago, he froze in terror.

Oh. God.

The bottles fell from his hands and into the trolley, making a light dent in the bread. Every muscle froze, overwhelmed by the sudden surge of panic that rushed through his veins at the empty space before him. He heart pounded through his chest as he scanned the busy shopping centre, trying to stay calm as to not overlook the slave's position.

He couldn't even imagine the trouble he'd be in if he lost Iruka, if someone recognized that scar his face, knew of his name.

_Oh God!_ He knew this was a bad idea!

Blinded by panic, it took him a moment to finally catch sight of the man at the end of the aisle, and could have fainted there and then from the sudden rush of blood returning to his face. He closed his eye and released a deep sigh of relief, waiting for the hard thumping in his chest to settle.

Taking in a sharp breath, he then ran to the end of the aisle, as though afraid the slave would disappear in an amount of seconds.

"Sai!"

His voice sent a jolt through Iruka's heart, making him jerk in both startle and panic at the furious tone his master used. Toy falling from his hands, he spun round to face his master, the man's frame towering over him in such an intimidating manner. The slave opened up his hands at his sides, fingers stretched far out in a sign of immediate surrender and apology, which told Kakashi that Iruka _knew_ he had misbehaved and failed to follow his instructions.

However, Kakashi's attention had quickly turned to the item he'd noticed fall from the man's hands, curious to see what had interested the slave in the first place. The sight of the toy left the jounin lost for words; the lecture he had prepared now vanished from his mind, as he stared at the blue, cuddly dolphin lying on the floor. Realisation hit him like a kunai to the head, leaving him stunned at the assumption that this man, this slave knew who he was.

It couldn't be a coincidence – it was too obvious. Iruka knew what his own name was, even knew the meaning behind it. One who has been locked away from the world for so long doesn't just 'take a liking' to the look of a dolphin - it _had_ to be designed. Clearly, Iruka was a lot smarter that he let on, and was more aware of his past than Kakashi had originally believed.

But why hadn't Masaki known about it?

Control was the only reason Kakashi could think of; that last piece of power Iruka had in his life - to know who he was, where he came from, and to be the only one to know it. The vital weapon against Masaki that had kept his own state of mind intact. Masaki had stolen everything from Iruka, except that one little piece of power.

For a moment, Kakashi felt a sincere emotion of respect for the slave, who had endured something so… sickening, so frightening, and yet, refused to bow down to the very bottom of submission. At that moment, Kakashi couldn't find it in him to scold the slave, because he wanted Iruka to have that dolphin toy – because he deserved it. But after thinking it through carefully, he realised he could not ignore the wandering situation altogether, and instead offer Iruka such a reward; it would only mix signals and confuse the slave, and shift their progress and trust right back to where they had started.

Although Iruka appeared clueless, Kakashi now knew the slave was a lot more intelligent than both he and Masaki were aware of. Kakashi was determined to keep hold of the small ounce of trust he had fought bloody hard to earn, and so he focused on what he had learned from the slave's method of thinking, anticipating Iruka's instinctive thoughts to manipulate the situation.

He confronted the misbehaviour first, painting a stern look in his eye to show his disappointment towards Iruka's actions.

"I asked you nicely not to walk off like that." he kept his voice low, making it clearer than necessary that he was not pleased. "Didn't I?"

Iruka gave a timid nod, not prepared to argue the matter or show any form of challenge in any way. Probably because lunch was nearing, Kakashi thought cynically, while planning the next step in this scolding.

"If I can't trust you to follow my instructions, then I will take you back home and you'll sit in the naughty spot while I finish shopping by myself," He frowned. "Is that what you want?"

Iruka shook his head, surprising himself at his own answer. The naughty spot was practically the situation he'd been placed in back at Masaki's sheds, where he'd lived for years and was used to. Even with the knowledge that he'd still be fed in the naughty spot, the thought of being chained, isolated and ignored by his master was something he wanted to avoid.

Finally, his master's glare faded, and Kakashi let out a sigh.

"I understand this is all new and exciting for you, but you can't wander off like that. If you give me your word that this won't happen again, I'll forget it, and we can carry on as though nothing happened." He raised a silver brow expectantly. "Do I have your word?"

Iruka blinked, catching up with his master's words to understand what he meant. He had gotten away with it? Again? Eyes wide, he slowly nodded, willing to take the offer if it was where, to stay out of trouble, and the naughty spot.

Kakashi's smile then returned to his eye, his previous grudge against Iruka's misbehaviour quickly forgotten – as promised. He pointed to the dolphin toy on the floor, turning Iruka's attention to it.

"Did you want that toy?"

The mystery of his master returned, as Iruka once again struggled to understand why he was being rewarded after his crime. He gave Kakashi a long, hard stare, dark brows knitting suspiciously, as though letting his master know that he was not that stupid. However, already expecting such a reaction, Kakashi quickly confronted it with the next step in his plan.

"You _know_ you misbehaved, Sai," he explained, as though speaking to a child. "But you weren't rude to me, and you didn't lose your temper. You were polite and apologised for what you'd done," His smile returned. "So, well done. Thank you."

He chose his words carefully, wanting to manipulate the situation so that he could buy Iruka the dolphin toy after reprimanding his misbehaviour without anymore confusion adding to their long list of communication problems. But he needed a reason to do so, and this way, he could also help Iruka see that the slave had gotten further by simply listening, instead of becoming defensive. Kakashi hoped it was something Iruka would bear in mind in the future, perhaps during the bath session later on…

His words seemed to sink in, as Iruka stared at the floor in deep thought.

His master's methods were utterly bizarre, but Iruka was willing to accept it, as he understood vaguely that he was being rewarded for the way he had reacted. After analysing Kakashi's words, the slave sensed that his master was trying to be fair with him; that he wanted things to be as easy as Iruka did - no beatings or games involved. After spending the last few days with this man, being fed every meal unconditionally, and treated in ways no other slave would believe, Iruka couldn't help but lean more towards the possibility that this man didn't want to cause him harm. Didn't want to hurt or humiliate him, or even make him earn all those things he'd been given.

He couldn't fight it anymore; he was beginning to like his new master.

The jounin picked up the toy from the floor and offered it to the slave, his smile still bright in his eye. "Go and put it in the trolley."

Iruka slowly took the toy, staring up at his master in amazement, still digesting the fact that he was allowed to keep it. He looked at the toy in his hands, stroking the soft fur, as a soft smile broke through his lips. Kakashi felt a familiar fluttering sensation in his stomach, truly finding the man's smile adorable, and unable to help but feel proud that he was the one who had caused it. To see the slave look so happy felt as though every struggle and effort he'd put into the slave's care had been worth it.

The slave then glanced up at him, and gave his master a warm smile – a real one, as though showing his gratitude towards his reward. It warmed Kakashi's heart to see Iruka finally crawling out of his shell, and he smiled back, before nudging his head slightly, signalling the man to follow him back to the trolley.

With a trolley fully loaded, and every item ticked off the list, Kakashi led Iruka back to the front of the shop towards the tills. The slave was fairly quiet now, distracted by the dolphin toy sitting in the trolley and seemingly fighting the urge to not touch it, until his master gave him permission to hold it, of course. It left Kakashi relieved, as it made another distraction for when they would have to pass through the tills.

However, once turning the corner, the jounin suddenly stopped in his tracks. With Iruka's attention still on his toy, he hadn't noticed, until he felt a gloved hand grab his arm and pull him back behind the aisle. He stumbled back, but his master's hands kept him from falling to the floor. With a questioning brow, Iruka looked up at him.

"_Shit."_ Kakashi whispered through gritted teeth, eye glaring into the trolley, panicked.

Iruka blinked, brows knitting deeper at the sudden serious expression in his master's eye. Something was wrong. He looked around with a clueless gaze, and then back to his master, noticing the man's hands gripped so tightly to the trolley they were trembling. Kakashi then inhaled a deep breath of air, and turned to Iruka.

"Sai," he said quietly. "I need you to climb in this trolley for me, and hold on tight, okay?"

Iruka blinked again, looked at the trolley, and back to his master, baffled.

"Please, just do it!" Kakashi whispered hurriedly, patting the metal bars. "I'll explain in a minute."

Nodding slowly, Iruka looked back to the trolley, and, using his master for balance, climbed inside. He crouched down into the small space as told, holding onto the metal bars.

"Hold on tight." Kakashi reminded, and without warning, the jounin then moved, running through the shop and pushing the trolley at such a speed, the slave lunged forwards, almost tumbling over the other side.

He held on tightly, face hidden in his lap as he shut his eyes tight, feeling his stomach churn.

x—

Crimson eyes stared at the scene in the distance, blinking, twice.

"Was that… Kakashi?"

A dark haired male turned from the cigarette stand, glancing at the busy crowds.

"Huh?"


	6. Chapter 6

After scanning the empty road through the net curtain for any sign of life, Kakashi then closed the outer curtains. He'd locked every door and window around his home, shutting out the village in hopes of chasing away the heavy sense of paranoia that had followed him from the shopping centre. However, the 'out of sight, out of mind' method wasn't working, as he remained standing there in silence, wide eye staring into space, as though he was just waiting to hear a bang at the door any second now.

He had been careless, lowering his guard like that in the busy shopping centre, and the most frustrating thing about it was that he wasn't even sure if he'd been caught or not; panicked, the only idea that seemed to register in his mind was to get out of there immediately, knowing how much he had to lose if he challenged his luck any longer. Part of him just wanted to hear a knock at the door, if only to put himself out of his misery.

Turning to the sofa, his eye fell upon the slave, who was fidgeting against his master's pillow for a more comfortable position, before returning to his afternoon nap. A sad smile formed on Kakashi's lips beneath his mask, as he wondered if Iruka had any idea what was going on, if he was even aware that what Kakashi had done was an extremely serious crime. He had kidnapped Iruka, forced the slave into his home and even chained him like an animal, all for the sake of keeping his dealings with Masaki secret. Although his intentions were good, he didn't want anyone to know that he was involved in this type of business, clearly because he was ashamed of it. But now that the complications of his secret business was starting to trickle into his personal life and home, Kakashi began to question once again whether or not it was easier to just throw in the towel and hand Iruka over to the Hokage.

That was an option he was desperately trying to avoid, and not only because of his own shame. He did not take pleasure in controlling Iruka's life the way he did, but he knew that handing Iruka over would result in the same outcome anyway, but worse. With Iruka's damaged condition, Kakashi imagined the slave would be dealt with in the simplest way. It was not safe for him to go outside on his own – he needed constant monitoring and supervision, and the place he would get the most efficient care like that was in some kind of mental institution. There, Kakashi feared Iruka's temper would only be tamed with a medicine of some sort, which more than likely would be added with another chemical substance to settle his anxiety attacks, and then any side effects that followed.

In Iruka's case, Kakashi was against that kind of treatment, as he believed that four walls, a locked door, and an injection would not teach Iruka anything but fear of expressing himself. He needed someone who _wanted_ to care for him, instead of someone who merely wanted to be paid at the end of the day for completing their duty. He needed to experience a lot of things he had lost touch with over the years, and Kakashi truly believed that he could give Iruka those experiences. But more than that, he believed he owed it to Iruka as well.

But now he had blown that chance, and knew it as soon as he'd noticed those crimson eyes turn his way in the shopping centre, and the only words his mind could muster was 'get out now!' He could only pray that Kurenai hadn't enough time to focus on Iruka's face…

He let out a long and extremely deep sigh, chasing away his worries once again, as he reminded himself that his work was not done. He looked back at Iruka, the slave fast asleep on the sofa, dolphin plush squashed between his thighs, and a thin line of drool clinging to his chin. Despite his guilt, Kakashi couldn't help his smile; he was like a big baby.

He tiptoed into the kitchen where the shopping bags were still sitting on the table. He quietly put the items away, and mentally began the search for flaws in his strategy for the next challenge approaching.

Bath time.

Even the word made him shudder. He had been dreading this moment since the previous session, having now experienced Iruka's reaction to it, and had the bite marks in his skin to prove it. He'd wanted to leave it for another day, avoid it until it was extremely necessary, but Iruka's eating habits didn't make that possible; his hair was constantly covered in crumbs and sticky foods, and he wasn't getting much cleaner on the natural side of hygiene. If he left it until tomorrow, the session would only last longer, and so he needed to get it over and done with now.

Kakashi was aware that Masaki had always enjoyed finding new and creative ways in showing his slaves who was in charge, humiliating them in front of clients and other slaves; in _that_ area, it was something to be proud of, a reputation that travelled and seemed to even provoke competition. Kakashi had never seen these kinds of 'methods' take place, but had heard a lot of stories that often had him returning home with a loss of appetite and sickening feeling in the pit of his stomach. He could only assume that these 'methods' were connected to this fear Iruka had of being lowered into the water, an assumption that left the jounin unsure if he really wanted to know the rest of the story towards it; to learn what kind of torture Iruka had been put through back then, when, for all they knew, Kakashi could have been in the shed just next door, buying another slave.

It hurt to know that Iruka didn't trust him because of something Masaki had done, but really, Kakashi couldn't blame the man. In Iruka's eyes, every master was the same; just as cunning, greedy and cruel as each other, though Kakashi hoped the past few days had altered that belief a little. He only wished that he could change the slave's understanding to the bath issue, but he planned to give it a try.

When he had finished putting away his shopping, he opened up the fridge and took out various contents, while tugging a white, polythene bag out from the cupboard under the sink. He quickly made up a jam sandwich, cut it into squares, and turned to the kitchen table.

A large bag of chips was sat upon the table which he'd bought earlier in the shopping centre. He put it inside the white bag, along with the bottles he planned to use for the bath. He had one idea floating in his mind that he was willing to try, though he wasn't sure whether or not it would work.

He then walked quietly into the living room, setting down the plate on the arm of the chair for Iruka to eat his sandwich once he'd woken up. He stayed there for a moment and watched the man sleep, smile forming underneath his mask once more at the slave's peaceful features. He tiptoed over to the abandoned blanket on the floor beside the sofa, and carefully draped it over the slave, remembering to fold the end back over to free the man's ankles. Iruka didn't move, not at all aware of the jounin's presence, until Kakashi knelt down before the other to tuck two strands of hair behind the man's ear. The slave's nose twitched lightly, tongue slipping past his lips to lick at them before disappearing again. Kakashi smirked in amusement, content in the moment at how comfortable Iruka looked in the warm, cushiony sofa, an immense difference to the cold floorboards Kakashi imagined he was used to.

He couldn't deny that he was beginning to enjoy Iruka's company, though he tried not to count that as a reason for wanting the man to stay with him. He had lived alone for the vast majority of his life, and over the years had become more than used to it; he took pleasure in long, quiet nights, his thoughts and training time undisturbed. If there was one thing that bothered Kakashi more than most, it was the thought of having someone making themselves at home inside his territory; spoiling his precious possessions with dirty finger prints, or interfering with his privacy in any way. When first taking Iruka in, it had occurred to Kakashi that he would be sacrificing his time, home and privacy, yet strangely enough, he didn't mind Iruka touching any of his things, or entering any room no friend would have entry to; after all, Kakashi was extremely fascinated by this slave, interested in every reaction.

Iruka shifted again, rolling his head back along the pillow and releasing a soft sigh. His exposed neck caught Kakashi's eye, and he was reminded of the dry patches of skin he needed to sort out. Gathering some courage, Kakashi stood to his feet, determined to get this bath session out of the way.

He stole one last glance of the closed curtains, listening to the long silence surrounding him. _Shame, _he thought sadly. He had so many plans for today, so many things he wanted to show Iruka around the village, though it didn't seem possible… for now. It was probably a good thing actually, since this bath session could take some time with the lengthy negotiation stage they would be confronting in just a few minutes.

He quietly walked up the stairs with the polythene bag, and turned into the bathroom. A drip from the sink tap sounded with an echo, a tense silence surrounding him as he tried to gather his thoughts and mentally chop them up into different steps for this session. Taking in a sharp breath, he placed the bag down just beside the bath tub, attached the plug, and turned the keys. His heart raced as the water rushed into the tub with a loud roar, terrified of the noise waking the slave too early in this stage. He quickly closed the bathroom door and opened the windows, trying to fan the steam outside to avoid an unnecessary distraction. If he was going to get Iruka inside here, the atmosphere needed to be calm and as least scary as possible.

As the bath began to fill, Kakashi began picking out the bottles from the polythene bag and placed them at the end of the tub. Finding the child-brand bubble bath, he clicked open the lid and squeezed a generous amount into the water, the smell of strawberries soon filling the room. It was strong and sweet, and left a weird taste at the back of Kakashi's throat. He made a quick, mental reminder to ensure the slave didn't try to eat the foamy fruit – _if_ his plan worked.

The water reached near the top of the tub. Kakashi turned the keys again, and dipped his hand into the water to test the temperature. Wiping his hand against his navy sweater, he looked around the room in deep thought.

_What next…_

He left the room for a minute, returning with an old radio he remembered storing at the back of the shelf in his closet. He plugged it in just outside the bathroom, feeding the wire through the open doorway – a perfect reason for keeping the door open so that Iruka could enter easily.

Clicking on the radio, he experimented with the tracking wheel, searching for something appropriate. Turning up the dial, the music abruptly blasted through the house, while the jounin began to strip from his uniform. He stopped at his boxers, hesitating with faint reddened cheeks. Was it best to leave them on to avoid scaring the slave, or take them off to signal their equality? Stealing a nervous glance of the door, Kakashi swallowed the thick lump at the back of his throat, and pulled them down. This wasn't just about cleaning Iruka; if he wanted the slave to trust him, he needed to give a little trust back, and expose a little vulnerability in himself.

Finally, he tired a long, thin towel around his face, and stepped into the deep, warm water. A sigh left his lips as he sat down, feeling the muscles in his arms and legs begin to relax a little, though the tight knot in his stomach remained. The loud music twitched at his nerves, blocking his hearing that he was trying desperately to focus on, wanting to know if how Iruka was reacting to it. But he stayed patient, realising that he could be here for a while.

He closed his eyes, taking this rare opportunity to relax, as he waited for Iruka to make his choice.

x—

Iruka flinched out of his sleep with a startled yelp when the loud noise suddenly erupted in the house. He caught his fall by grasping the arm of the sofa, his foot knocking the plate from the other arm and sending it tumbling to the floor. Iruka froze, still dangling from the sofa as he stared at the sandwich on the floor. Licking his lips, he then looked around him, trying to find something else to grab so he could pull himself up. When all seemed hopeless, he merely let go, and fell to the floor with a small thud.

Sitting up, he looked around again with wide, confused eyes, trying to find his master, and the source of where that noise was coming from. But his attention soon returned to the sandwich slices laid out before him, abandoned and unwatched. Iruka was not one to pass up on an opportunity like this, and so, after another sneaky glance, he took each slice and placed them in his lap, and gobbled them down faster than his master could catch him.

He licked his fingers and palms to take every crumb, jam smeared across his chin and cheek, and every other patch on his face his tongue could reach. He frowned when he realised he had finished, and moved onto his hands and knees, crawling around and looking under the sofa to see if anymore slices had fallen.

He half expected to be interrupted in his search, as his master never left him alone for long. When greeted by another empty corner, he sighed and sat up, looking up at the ceiling. The noise was coming from up there, arousing his curiosity. His dark brows knitted. What was it?

Standing to his feet, he slowly approached the bottom of the stairs, leaving his dolphin toy behind, still squished into the corner of the sofa. The music became louder with each step he took, the thick beat thumping through his ears and making the floorboard bounce ever so slightly beneath his feet. He looked around at the top of the stairs, trying to find a clue of where his master was. Placing a hand on the banister, he slowly climbed the stairs, the noise turning louder and starting to hurt his ears. He lifted his hands to cover them, and headed towards the bedroom, but stopped when he saw the thick, black wire that trailed across the floor before his feet, and into the bathroom.

A strong sweet smell then attacked his nostrils; he could almost taste it on his tongue. Too afraid to step inside, the slave placed a hand on the door frame and leaned his head over to catch a glimpse at what was going on, cautious to the possibility of it being some kind of trap. He could barely see a thing, the open door shielding most of the room at the other side, where the bath tub was.

The music was suddenly turned down, and Iruka heard a strange rustling noise. He stared at the floor in focus, listening and trying to comprehend what was happening. He was certain it was his master in there, but what he was doing, Iruka couldn't figure it out.

Almost as though his master had sensed his question, Iruka's eyes widened at the sound of trickling water coming from the corner of the room, the noise loud enough to convince him it was not merely a couple of drops – but a wave of it. The blood rushed from his face, breath becoming hitched as he realised what his master was doing. He shivered in the doorway, taking a large but extremely quiet step back, determined to believe his master had not heard him. As he focused carefully on the floorboard beneath his feet, he began to plan his way out of this; he would go back downstairs and pretend to sleep, all day if he had to. If his master tried to pick him up and carry him, he would make himself vomit. He was not going in that tub again.

He turned, heading towards the top of the stairs, but another noise stopped him, this time, one he was familiar with; teeth crunching into something hard and crispy, munching, more rustling. Iruka turned back faster than he had planned, staring at the door in horror, as he realised there was food inside that room. His mouth was open in a silent gasp, hardly able to believe what he had heard. Despite his fear, he suddenly felt angry at the situation, jealous of his master because of what he had that the slave didn't. He wanted to walk away, knowing that his weakness was being used against him, but he couldn't. His glare vanished, replaced with a self-pitying stare across the landing and into the doorway; he wanted to know which food his master had.

Kakashi was starting to feel sick from all of the chips he was eating. He could hear the slave behind the door, taking the smallest of steps closer with every chip he bit into, as though hypnotized by the sound. He kept going, ignoring the bloating in his stomach, and focusing on the task. Finally, he heard a small creak in the floorboards, and his mismatched eyes glanced up at the doorway in amazement when the slave _finally_ stepped into the room. There was a short, awkward silence, before the jounin snapped out of his astonishment and continued his plan.

"Hi!" Kakashi chirped, eyes crinkling into a pleasant smile at the man's presence. He didn't receive a response; in fact, Iruka didn't even look at him, more concerned with searching for the food he knew was somewhere inside here.

Kakashi slowly sat up in the bathtub, the bag of chips cleverly hidden behind the white polythene bag, ready to be used again if needed. Finally, when he found no evidence of food, Iruka looked up at him behind dark lashes; giving Kakashi the impression the eye contact was extremely reluctant. It was understandable considering the situation; Kakashi was certain the slave expected a repeat of what happened last time, and so he was distancing himself.

Kakashi ignored it altogether, keeping a bright smile in his eyes.

"Did I wake you up? I didn't mean to, I just _really_ fancied a bath…" He lay back down in the water with a content sigh, as though demonstrating how simple and enjoyable it was.

Iruka didn't respond, still taking one last, long glance around in hopes of finding where that munching noise was coming from. Kakashi watched the man carefully in the corner of his eye, debating on whether to take a chance on his next possible step. There seemed little harm in asking…

"Hey," he called, catching the slave's attention. He smiled softly, giving the rim of the tub a light pat and raising a gentle brow. "Would you like to join me? I could wash your back, you could wash mine?" His voice was filled with question, signaling that a choice was allowed to be made.

Iruka looked away uncomfortably, not wanting to answer so bluntly. Kakashi knew why; the slave was suspicious. The previous time this had happened, Kakashi had forced the man and gave no other option. This time, there was an option, but of course the slave was no stranger to devious tricks.

After a long pause, when there seemed no sign of an answer, he sighed, shrugging.

"Fine. If you don't want to, you can go back downstairs and play with your dolphin," He relaxed back against the tub. "I'm staying _right_ here."

Iruka pulled a face that would have made Kakashi laugh if the situation wasn't so tense. It was an expression full of attitude, as if to simply say 'you do that.' It was quite cute, actually. However, when the slave turned to leave, the jounin panicked, realising he had blown it.

_Time for plan B._

He really hadn't wanted to use this as a weapon, but he needed Iruka to start trusting him, and what better way than to prove to the slave during the most frightening situation, that his master would take care of him. That he would not hurt him. Leaning over the tub, he reached for the chips and squeezed the packet tightly in his hand. Iruka froze in the doorway, slowly turning his head at the loud rustling noise, ears twitching. His brown eyes widened in horror at the sight before him; his master lying back down against the tub, discarding his attention from the slave to focus on the large bag of food in his hands. And then, to make matters worse, out of no where came out a small carton of orange juice from the white bag, which was displayed nicely on the rim of the tub as though in a commercial.

"Mmm…" Kakashi munched under the towel, seeming completely oblivious to Iruka's presence.

His master was clearly enjoying this.

Kakashi had never - in his life - felt like such a bastard as he did right now. He didn't let it show in his eyes, but he felt so cruel. He could practically feel Iruka's eyes staring at him in disbelief, horrified at what was happening. He could see the slave studying every chip he placed underneath the towel on his face, ears twitching at every crunch. Like a begging dog. He reminded himself that Iruka had already been fed – that it was his obsession with food that had was upsetting him. He was addicted to it, and to see his master dangle food before him that he wasn't being invited to was understandably quite distressing.

But Kakashi had so carefully thought this through, and knew the only way to do this was to use food against him. He was not starving Iruka, or neglecting him in any way. This was a treat, and treats must be earned.

Finally, he glanced back to the slave with a fake look of confusion at the man's lingering presence. "What's wrong? Don't you want to go and play with your dolphin?"

The question was ignored, as Iruka turned his gaze from Kakashi, to the food in his hands, like a dog signaling its master.

Kakashi frowned. "Come on, you've already _had _something to eat," he said sternly, reminding the slave that he _had_ been fed. Carefully thinking one last time, he went ahead with his plan.

"_This,_" lifting the bag of chips. "Is bath food. You can only eat it when you're in the bath," he lied, catching a confused look from the slave.

"I'm sorry, but that's the rules. If you want some, you have to get in the bath, or you'll just have to wait until dinner time."

Iruka glared at him, bearing his teeth in anger, the same look in his eye Kakashi had seen moments before the slave had bit into his skin that time. He stayed in the doorway for a moment, breathing sharply through gritted teeth while trying to decide what do to - though Kakashi had a small hunch getting into the bath was not one of those options. Surely, Iruka wouldn't attack him? The slave knew he would not win…

While it was a worrying sight, Kakashi could understand it; Iruka was not given a dinner routine with Masaki. He was fed when the fat man simply felt like it, and so it was no surprise to see the lack of consideration as to whom exactly the food belonged to. In those sheds, if the food was there, it was available to the slave who would fight the most for it.

However, Iruka didn't react that way. Instead, he just stormed out of the room in a dramatic sulk, footsteps thumping around the stairway. Kakashi bit his lip under the towel, staring at the empty doorway. Had he gone too far again?

Clutching to the food packet, he placed his free hand onto the rim of the tub to pull himself up, intending to apologise and try to fix any damage he may have done. But before he could even step out of the tub, Iruka suddenly stormed back into the room, still glaring at him, though this time, Kakashi could see a sense of defeat in the slave's eyes.

The slave was jealous, and Kakashi imagined Iruka would not be able to sit still for long downstairs with the knowledge that there was food up here. It wasn't nice to know that; he only hoped this food issue really would get better in time.

Kakashi slowly sat back into the tub, trying to let Iruka know he was not prepared to force him, or try anything for that matter. He could see the stubborn frown knitted in Iruka's eyebrows, the slave still trying to talk himself out of this, trying to tell himself he didn't want the chips, but he did.

Kakashi raised a gentle, silver brow, letting every ounce of emotion show in his eyes, wanting Iruka to _see_ that he _really _was genuine.

"I won't hurt you…" he said softly, watching the slave's eyes torn between the chips and orange juice. "You have my word. I'll be very gentle... You don't have to be afraid of me…"

Iruka's expression faltered; surprising Kakashi with the realisation that he was actually considering it. The slave looked away again, wishing this situation would just disappear. He glanced back to the prized items in his master's possession, then, very slowly turned his weak gaze to the rippling water in the tub, a shudder surging through his spine.

Kakashi's concern showed in his eyes. He dropped the bag of chips on the floor and, ever so slowly, pulled himself to his feet again, pale hand hovering over his most private area in embarrassment. He lifted his free hand out to the man, fingers trembling slightly.

"Come on, Sai," he encouraged. "I know you can do this… Please, just trust me a little… I'm not going to hurt you."

Iruka breathed sharply through his nose, a sign of nerves he was trying to release.

The low music kept the long silence away. Kakashi didn't say a word, deciding he had said all he needed to and did not want to push his luck by making the slave feel that he was being forced. After one last longing glance at the chips on the floor, Iruka slowly approached the jounin, each step a seeming battle to overcome. Kakashi could see that the slave's hands were trembling, could hear his shaky breath, as the slave hesitantly lifted his arms up into the air, waiting for his master to help him with his shirt.

Kakashi stared at him for a moment, hardly able to believe what was happening; Iruka was agreeing!

"Okay," he whispered in a shaky voice, taking hold of the bottom of the man's shirt, and slowly lifted it over the man's head.

Goosebumps broke through the slave's skin as he was undressed. Stealing another glance of the water, Iruka instinctively wrapped his arms around himself, fingernails scraping along the tanned skin.

"It's alright," Kakashi reassured. "Can you take your bottoms and underwear off for me, please?"

Iruka complied, stripping completely from his clothes. Now standing before his master and ready for his bath, he felt the familiar sensation of fear rush inside of him, knowing that it was coming closer. Kakashi held a hand out to him again, but when the slave didn't take it, he slowly lowered it to Iruka's arm, pale knuckles stroking lightly along the tanned skin and feeling the tiny hard lumps along the slave's arm. Iruka glanced up at him through damp eyes, seeing the look of understanding in his master's eye, so gentle and patient, allowing the slave to decide their pace.

To his surprise, the slave then lifted his shaking hands again towards his master. Kakashi slowly took them, keeping his hold extremely loose, barely touching, to give the man every opportunity to pull away. He then gently closed his fingers around the man's wrists, and gave them the smallest of tugs towards him. Iruka followed hesitantly, short, but harsh breaths leaving his nose as his watering eyes darted around him for some form of distraction. He stopped when his knees touched the side of the tub, and felt two, strong arms slide around his waist, pulling him into a tight, warm, and damp hug.

Kakashi loosened every muscle in his arms, signaling to the slave that he would not do anything without warning the man first. He gently rubbed Iruka's back, soft, slow strokes along the man's shivering spine to keep him calm. After a few seconds, Iruka's shoulders relaxed a little, though not enough to convince Kakashi it was safe to simply plop him inside.

"It's alright," he said again, feeling the slave's warm, shuddering breath against his damp shoulder. "I'm going to lift you up now, okay?"

He felt the slave's fingernails sink painfully into his skin, an unintentional reaction but painful nonetheless. Iruka's breaths came quicker, harder, as he buried his face deeper into his master's shoulder, and let out a muffled whimper of dread. Kakashi ignored it for now, _determined _to see this through – they'd come so close! Tightening his hold around the man's waist, he then lifted Iruka up from the floor.

A loud scream of terror bounced off the walls, piercing Kakashi's ears like needles and making him cringe behind his towel. The slave twisted and wriggled in his grasp like a wild cat, tanned hand swinging through the air in search for something to grab. Finding the nearest object, he clutched to the shower curtain at the side, the thin sheet ripping from its frame against the weight he was putting on it – an action that only sent the slave in further panic as he lost his balance, but his master caught his fall with a tight embrace.

Kakashi quickly set Iruka back on his feet, a choked sob echoing around the room as the slave's legs sunk into the warm water, forcing him into the same position as before. He could feel Iruka's fingernails sinking painfully to his already bleeding shoulder, hard, unsteady breaths leaving his lips as he struggled to contain his panic.

"It's alright!" Kakashi had to shout just to reach the man's ears. Arms locked around the Iruka's waist, he tensed his muscles, offering the man some stability.

"We stop here," he tried to reassure. "No more…" _For now_, until he could convince Iruka to let him continue…

Trembling against his frame, Iruka lifted a shaking foot out of the water and clutched to the rim with his toes, attempting to pull himself out of the tub, but his master held him tightly.

Slowly, Kakashi leaned back a little to take a better look at the man's face. Iruka's eyes looked incredibly strained, wide and fixed on the ceiling. Taking a gentle hold of his jaw, Kakashi frowned as he tried to make the man into his eye, but under the heavy breaths and whining noises of panic, it was evident that Iruka had mentally shut out, or was attempting to shut out his surroundings to his greatest extent.

"Sai?" Kakashi called, watching the man's eyes carefully.

Finally, he saw the slightest flicker of eye contact. Deciding to get this over with, Kakashi acted on impulse and took immediate advantage, opening his left eyelid to reveal his sharingan; he was out of ideas on convincing the slave, and needed a glimpse of help from the man.

Form freezing in his master's grasp, Iruka's eyes widened instantly, his vision lured in by the sharingan as it began to spin.


	7. Chapter 7

"_I can still smell it." Masaki grimaced behind his sleeve, pacing the bathing area. _

_For a couple of weeks now, a bad stench had been lingering around these grounds, the horrid smell becoming stronger by each day. The slave-owner had assumed the smell to be coming from the sheds at the back, a possible result of bad hygiene or rotting food that he had finally been forced to investigate when the stench had become unbearable. He had ordered for every slave to be thoroughly washed down by the hose, while their sheds were quickly searched in hopes of finding the cause of the stench. Once each slave was washed, they were taken back to their individual numbered sheds and placed back into their chains, each door to the sheds then left open for a couple of hours to ventilate any other threatening odors inside. It was a cruel decision on Masaki's part, who had clearly not considered the effect the cold wind entering inside the open sheds would have on the wet, shivering slaves inside - too concerned with the terrible effect this would have on the reputation of his business._

Iruka had noticed the stench a couple of days ago, however underneath the common foul hygiene conditions, it had seemed no more than usual up until now, when it had began to leak into the sheds.

With his fingers clenched tightly around the chains grasping his wrists, he tensed against the freezing water which stabbed into his torso from the hose, cleansing him from dirt, dust and bacteria that often found its way back inside the sheds. He kept his eyes tightly closed to avoid the powerful spray as it moved to his face, lips parting and tongue slipping past to catch mouthfuls of free and clean drinking water.

Once the washing method was finished, the maid moved the hose from his body and turned it off. Iruka relaxed against his chains and waited to be released, thick drops of water leaking from his soggy strands and falling onto his trembling body, yet the numbing in his skin had aided him a little in blocking out the cold. He smeared his tongue along the drips running down his chin, and tilted his head slightly to catch his damp strands of hair, sucking lightly on them for more water access. 

_He soon saw Masaki appear from behind the corner of the large building wall, and his attention quickly turned to see what the man was holding in his hand; five pieces of dusty old bread – a sight that sent panic flaring inside the slave's heart. However, a surge of anger dominated that emotion, as he realised that Masaki had searched his shed and stolen his stash of food. When Masaki finally met his eyes with a look of utter disgust, Iruka could not find the willpower to seize his own fury. He had worked so hard to save those pieces of bread, enduring the painful belly ache of hunger for the sake of having__** something**__ to turn to when desperate for energy, some comfort, or simply something to take away the boredom of being trapped inside the same four walls, day in and out. He had not gone without by his own free will for his master to then take away what was rightfully his. _

_He was not at all surprised when Masaki approached, footsteps slapping against the shallow puddles in the ground, before the man stopped in front of him, ensuring an intimidating closeness between the two of them. Iruka moved his gaze to the floor, keeping it fixed there as he felt his master's eyes on him._

"_Where did this come from?" _

_Iruka's eyes tightened in a glare, furious at the absurdity in Masaki's question. He stole a glance of the bread in his master's hand, unable to find any plausible scenario on how he could possibility have stolen it as Masaki had so bluntly suggested. He was half convinced that his master knew it belonged to him, but was trying to provoke him into reacting for the sake of having a reason to show his superiority, or perhaps the stench threatening the deals with clients was merely stressing him out beyond rational control._

Iruka had never, and probably never would understand the logic behind it, but he was deeply aware of the thrilling excitement the small, yet powerful businessman felt in his position. And Iruka could never win with him, no matter which option he chose to stay safe and unharmed; backing down into submission would only encourage Masaki's sense of pride and spur him on further, yet reacting would piss him off beyond what it was worth. Instead, he stilled in his chains, every muscle in his body tense and ready for a blow, his eyes still fixed firmly on the ground. It was an instinctive reaction, to simply freeze and remain inactive, and wait for whatever was to come - reminding himself that in no time, he would be back in his shed. 

_When there was no response, Masaki growled through his nose, his clammy hand grabbing a fistful of Iruka's hair and jerking the slave's head down to press his face into the clumps of bread. Iruka hissed in pain, teeth clenching as he tried to keep his balance; his arms now stretched behind him from the bonds at an uncomfortable angle. Despite the cruel treatment he was used to, the position felt so humiliating, as his naked body had been forcefully bent over in an extremely vulnerable position for the maid's viewing behind him, and his face pressed into his master's hand like a dog being thrown into its own mess. Breathing sharply through his nose, he summoned every ounce of strength he had to stay exceedingly calm, though this did little to relieve the sudden burst of rage growing inside, his instincts flaring wildly at the knowledge he would never see that bread again. At that moment, he felt so bitter at the injustice, to have the food that was rightfully his taken away from him for something he had not done._

"_**I said,**__ where did it come from?" _

_He grunted into Masaki's hand, signaling his resentment and denial. He didn't dare take back what was his; even if it was staring him in the face, he knew he would not get away with it. He had tried that method before, a lucky attempt of snatching his dinner when permission had already been removed, believing that once it was in his stomach, Masaki could not touch it. He learned the reality of that technique quickly, when his master had forced his own hand down his throat to retrieve it again._

Masaki moved his hand away, fingers squeezing around the clumps to mold them into one single piece. His other hand remained tightly clutched to the slave's hair, as he turned his attention to the maid behind Iruka, who was awkwardly watching the scene before her.

"Get the chains off him." He demanded, the maid quickly complying. 

_With his chains unlocked, Iruka swung his hand up to grab Masaki's hold on his hair in attempt to loosen the painful grip some. He felt his master pull at his hair, jerking him away from the washing poles and into the open area, where he was thrown across the floor with a grunt, skin scraping across the stony ground. Masaki towered over him once more, eyes narrowing in a dark glare towards the younger male. _

"_You're not going to answer me?" _

_Iruka shifted into a more comfortable sitting position, scowling at the ground as though in a sulk. He stole a subtle glance of the maid, a meek pleading glance for her to intervene even a little, because he was clearly out of his depth. She stared at him in both shock and pity, seeming to share Iruka's belief that this entire incident had not been initiated by Iruka; there had never been an opportunity for him to get his hands on anything inside Masaki's home. However, she did not speak up, too afraid of angering the man they both knew was out of control, and turning his wrath on herself._

Her silent, lingering presence soon caught Masaki's eye, who gave her an intimidating glance of question.

"What are you still doing here?" he frowned. "Haven't you got a job to do? It's what I'm paying you for, isn't it?"

He received a timid nod from the maid, who quickly left the area to fetch the next slave, following the same principle most did in these sheds that it was every person for them self.

"Let's get this straight once and for all," Masaki hissed down at him, stepping closer as the slave tensed under him. "You eat when I say so. You do as you're told, or you will face consequences. Am I understood?" 

_Iruka nodded behind his dripping hair, offering a gesture of submission in return for warmth back in his shed. He believed Masaki that there would be consequences, and knew his master would find always find a new and creative way of making the punishment fit the crime. In this case, it was not worth it; he was freezing from the cold hose and wind, and desperately wanted to be fed._

"Good." Masaki smiled cynically, turning his eyes to the squashed up bread clumps in his hand. "And seeing as you've had your 'feast,' I don't think you'll be needing dinner for a while." 

_The painful thud of realisation dropped deep into the pit of Iruka's stomach, having anticipated something along those lines, but having it spoken out loud made the threat of it more final. His stomach coiled in anger, furious at the punishment of a crime he had not committed, however he soon felt his eyes swell with tears, the torture of hunger making the cold night approaching seem that much more hopeless. He had tried to be clever to keep himself alive, and in doing so had lost him his very source of life for another few days. _

"_Take him back to the shed." Masaki called out to the maid who was unchaining another slave, before he lifted his fisted hand in the air. _

_Iruka's wide eyes absorbed the sight as the bread was thrown high above and over his head. His head span round frantically so see where he had thrown it, breath catching in his throat at the soft 'plop' he heard as it hit the pond water. _

_Before his brain could communicate with his body, he reacted, springing to his feet and diving onto the stony outer rocks of the pond, his arm stretching across the surface to reach the squashed ball of bread bobbing gently in the water. He failed to notice the grimace of disgust painted in his master's face at the utter disobedience shown once again by this vile creature that depended on him for life. To be shown up like that was humiliating to Masaki, who dreaded to see how a client may have reacted to witnessing this. Iruka's fingertips brushed against the soggy bread clump as he stretched, other hand clenching the rock for balance as he focussed on his goal. _

_He suddenly felt a clammy hand grab his hair again from behind, a squeak of startle escaping the slave's lungs before the sound was drowned out by a loud splash. A woman's scream echoed somewhere in the distance, presumably belonging to the maid. It took a moment for him to realise what had happened, until he felt the cold water rushing into his ears and his breath being taken away. A surge of water bubbled to the surface as the slave screamed at his master under the water, wriggling and thrashing to try and slip out of the hand on his hair that was holding him down. He could feel the cold breeze whipping against the soles of his feet and toes that were facing the sky, burning graze now tingling on his stomach at where Masaki had dragged his skin along the stones to push him under. He tried to relax to save his oxygen, finding balance at the bottom of the pond as his hands pressed into a soft layer, though it instantly broke apart at the pressure he was putting on it, small flakes suddenly rising to the surface and clouding his vision. It was an unusual texture, bumpy and delicate as he felt the particles breaking embedding underneath his fingernails. It was when he felt something brush against his face that he opened his eyes, his vision clouded by the rush of floating particles, yet he caught sight of a face. It was extremely blurry underneath the water, yet evidently pale with light flaps of rotting skin peeled from the face and waving in the water. Long strands of black hair swayed softly and brushed against Iruka's face, as the slave slowly came to realise that his hands had buried deep into the chest of the corpse, almost touching the floor behind it. _

_Without thinking, Iruka gasped sharply in startle, the action sucking water into his lungs as he began to choke. He felt himself gag and attempt to scream for Masaki's help, who soon noticed the choking. He pulled Iruka back to the surface and threw him down on the floor, the slave coughing and gagging for air, tears rolling down his pale face and a thick strip of vomit hanging from his chin. _

_The corpse rose to the surface of the disturbed water, Masaki's eyes falling on it in sudden realisation and disgust as the stench hit the air stronger, the cause finally discovered. Slapping a hand to pinch his nose, he sighed in frustration, and turned to watch Iruka whining as he vomited on the ground. _

"_Don't make a scene, Sai," he ordered, knowing he had made a huge mistake in forgetting the incident with this slave he'd given up and not taken care of. He turned to the maid behind him, whose face was extremely pale in horror of what she was seeing. "That goes for you as well. We need to fish this thing out."_

x—

Kakashi blinked his sharingan eye, cutting off the contact. His surroundings shifted instantly, taking him back into the bathroom where he felt the familiar burning at his shoulder blades from where the slave's fingernails had pinched his skin. The slave had slumped over his shoulder in exhaustion, the sharingan having taken so much energy from his extremely poor health. It was the effect Kakashi had anticipated and allowed; despite hearing the voice of his conscience, he needed Iruka to calm down and stay conscious so he could learn from this harmless bathing session.

Finally, he understood what Iruka was afraid of and why he was behaving this way. He had experienced every detail through his sharingan, having felt the cold, dirty water fill his lungs and bring that agonizing pain and panic to his own chest. The image of the corpse's face remained fresh in his mind, sending a shiver down his spine at such a cruel side to Masaki that he had never seen, though he had always been vaguely aware of what the owner was capable of. Witnessing Masaki's true colours through the eyes of the vulnerable had truly opened his eyes to a side of Masaki he perhaps did not want to confront, knowing somewhere deep in his heart that he was partly responsible for what had happened, and what was still happening.

He turned his attention to the young male in his arms, forcing back his own anger to focus on his priority right now. Placing a hand upon Iruka's back, he rubbed gently, trying to offer the slave some comfort and also understanding that it was not Iruka's fault. It was Masaki wanting somebody to pick on, an opportunity to throw his weight around against someone who had no chance of defending themselves.

Iruka didn't put up much of a fight against Kakashi; he was deeply aware of his surroundings and trying desperately to voice his surrender through tired whimpers so his master would spare him this frightening experience, but his body had turned powerlessly limp. He felt sick to the stomach at feeling the warm water pooling around his trembling thighs, wishing he could take back whatever mistake he'd made to earn himself such a punishment.

Kakashi decided it was best to move quickly from here, sensing the slave's anxiety and knowing that he could lose every ounce of trust left at any time. He kept a strong arm wrapped around Iruka's waist, holding him securely in place to prevent the slave slipping from his frame, or taking any opportunity of escape – not that it seemed possible considering the man's state. Taking the washing cloth from the side, he soaked it with water before squeezing it at the top of the slave's back, letting the warm droplets fall along his quivering spine. He repeated the process, giving the slave time to get used to the feeling and temperature. He then soaked the cloth again and began to lightly scrub at Iruka's golden skin, responding to every shriek and whimper with whispering words of comfort and a gentle kiss at his temple.

"It's okay."

He hushed in a soothing manner, bringing the cloth up to the slave's shoulders where he quickly washed the back of his neck, feeling the strong shiver travel along the younger man's spine. It had occurred to Kakashi at the very beginning that Iruka did not like to be touched, but like many traits this slave had picked up, Kakashi intended to change that for the better.

"Maa, I can still feel that lump on my head from last night," he laughed, deciding to change the subject entirely to take the heavy attention away from the situation at hand. "Do you remember? When that bottle fell on my head?"

He didn't receive a response, not that he was expecting one, but it put an end to that horrible, tense silence. He slid the cloth underneath the slave's arm, keeping the process swift as he quickly moved to the other, while inwardly struggling to decide how he was going to wash the man's hair. Iruka kept his eyes shut to evade the sight of his surroundings, his muscles extremely tense against his master as he waited impatiently for an end to this. His breaths came immensely sharp from his lungs, heavy and fast as though convinced each one may be his last. At feeling the cloth stroke against a recent wound from his previous master's beating, he let out a startled yelp, body shrinking away from the cloth and into Kakashi's chest.

"I know, I'm sorry," Kakashi said earnestly, moving away from the wound now it was clean and turning his attention to another part of the male's body.

He began to wash Iruka's thighs, circling the cloth around the golden flesh before subtly sliding it up along the male's private area. While washing thoroughly, he kept this part extremely short, slipping his hand between the man's legs to clean his private parts before returning to his thighs. There was the odd twitch and jerk from the cloth touching his most sensitive area; however Iruka seemed no more affected by it than him scrubbing his stomach. He could sense no form of embarrassment, a feeling that left Kakashi wondering whether it was simply because he didn't know he was supposed to be, or if he was used to being touched there. That theory left a bitter taste in Kakashi's mouth, a strange protective kind of fury growing at the thought of anyone – client or owner – using this man that way. He guessed he would never know, at least not until he had got Iruka talking, however the thought still bothered him greatly.

Taking a cup from the side that he had placed earlier, he filled it with the warm bath water.

"I'm going to wash your hair now," he explained in the softest voice he possessed. "Can you tilt your head back for me, please?"

When there was no response, Kakashi sighed, feeling the sudden stiffness as the slave tightened his grip, refusing to move from a position which he had only just began to find relatively safe.

"It's alright," Kakashi reassured again, quickly examining Iruka's knees that had long since buckled under the water as they were knelt in the tub.

Lifting a knee for balance, Kakashi tightened his hold around the slave's waist and leant forward, giving Iruka no option but to lean back slightly – much to Iruka's displeasure, who let out a startled cry. It was an extremely awkward and vulnerable position, though there seemed no alternative with the slave who would not cooperate. Iruka's dark locks dangled over the surface of the water, his master holding him in place as he lifted the cup to the slave's head and poured the warm water over his hair. Eyes still clamped tight, Iruka growled at his master, fingernails grasping his skin painfully tight in an attempt to pull himself up, but Kakashi's weight against his chest kept him pinned at that angle.

"Please calm down," Kakashi pleaded, filling the cup up with water again. "You _know_ I won't drop you. I have no reason to hurt you, Sai. Please trust me a little."

His frustration was clear in his voice though he was trying to hide it, knowing that this was not about him, but Iruka. Swiftly but gently, he began to pour cupfuls of water along the slave's hair, his method extremely careful not to splash his face. His other arm remained tightly wrapped around Iruka's waist to keep him still, ignoring the urgent shouts the slave voiced for him to stop, his panic now driven through aggression. But Iruka seemed to know his limits, not daring to lash out in fear of being dropped in the process; instead he merely trembled in his master's arms, shouting and growling at every cupful of water that poured down his scalp, each noise a strange roar without the help of words.

Setting the cup down, Kakashi then reached for the bottle of shampoo standing on the side of the tub, its label subtly bullet-pointed in features Kakashi had intended; kind to sensitive skin and eyes, and also containing conditioner so Iruka would only have to endure this once. He leant back to his naturally slouched frame, guiding Iruka up with him so the slave was also now sitting upright. Squeezing a fair amount along the chocolate locks, Kakashi then massaged the mixture into the slave's scalp, ensuring his method was quick but thorough. He stole a glance of Iruka's face to see how the younger man was doing and sensed the slave was beginning to calm some, though his body was still excessively tense.

"Feels kinda nice, doesn't it?" Kakashi smiled, trying to keep a positive approach in hopes of showing Iruka that bathing time could be something to enjoy.

Iruka did not respond, too focused on tolerating this procedure until it could finally come to an end, but the gentle touch did not go unnoticed for long. He could feel his master's fingertips glide along his scalp, fingernails scratching at itchy spots and leaving him light headed at the tender treatment. Kakashi could sense the slave's pleasure; with a warm chuckle, he let his hand drift down the male's neck to drag his nails slowly along the spine, careful to avoid any open wounds. The slave's back arched from his touch, surroundings seeming to leave Iruka's thoughts for a moment as he let out a quiet sigh.

"You like that?" Kakashi continued to communicate, his voice gentle as ever.

Kakashi guessed his sharingan had a lot to do with this passive response he received from Iruka; the effects were bound to have left Iruka feeling tired, and probably very confused. This bathing session would more than likely be remembered more like a dream tomorrow, though with a positive ending. The progress was slow, but little by little they would get there.

He continued his massage for a little longer, wanting to offer as much comfort and reassurance he could, and also witness a little more this trust the slave was offering back at this moment, allowing himself to be supported and enjoying his master's affection. Moving his hand away, Kakashi then tugged down the towel mask covering his face, before leaning in to plant a warm kiss on Iruka's forehead. The slave flinched momentarily in panic at the contact that had come without warning, his eyes snapping open and then widening in startle at the new sight that greeted his vision; his master had stripped the towel from his face, and Iruka could only stare in astonishment when the older male's lips moved to speak to him.

"I'm very proud of you, Sai. You're doing so well."

His master smiled again, the expression curling his pale lips, the slave's eyes drawn to them. Kakashi watched Iruka curiously; interested to see how the slave would react to the fragment of trust had only just recently felt comfortable to offer in revealing his face. Despite the confidence he conveyed, he betrayed himself with a light blush at the attention, but quickly recovered another warm, caring smile.

"Tilt your head back for me, please," he tried again as he refilled the cup, wanting to see if Iruka would trust him enough to obey this time.

Iruka's eyes followed the cup in his master's hand, recognizing what his intentions were. Kakashi waited patiently for a response, noticing the hesitant pout cross the slave's features, a clear sign of worry. But to Kakashi's surprise, the slave slowly lifted his head back and held his breath, eyes tightly closed. Kakashi saw the small lump roll along Iruka's throat as he swallowed, the copy ninja's gaze drawn to a light, yellow bruise he had never seen before which was beginning to show signs of healing.

Tightening his hold around the man's waist once more, Kakashi leaned in close, and carefully poured the warm water along the brown locks. A quiet sound of discomfort left the slave's lips, but he stayed incredibly still and tolerant, trusting his master's word and waiting patiently for an end.

"Good boy," Kakashi praised with a pleased smile, unable to truly voice how proud he was right now. "One more now," he informed, pouring the water along the brown strands to remove the rest of the conditioner. "That's it! All done now!"

Deciding the bath session had gone on long enough, Kakashi lifted Iruka to their feet and helped the slave out of the bath. He grabbed the towel on the side and wrapped it around Iruka's frame, pale hands massaging through the towel to dry Iruka's skin. He could feel Iruka's weight leaning mostly on his frame for balance, the poor thing exhausted from the ordeal, though Kakashi was relieved they had seen it through, hoping that they could now move that tiny inch further along the thin thread of trust the jounin had designed. Sliding a pale arm around Iruka's waist, he guided the younger male into the bedroom, allowing Iruka to lean against his body as he began to dress the man.

Gently pulling the pyjama shirt over Iruka's head, Kakashi then took a tired hand and fed it through the sleeve, lifting the slave's arm to move the material along. He decided that tomorrow he would encourage Iruka to try and dress himself, but for now, Iruka needed his afternoon sleep. His eyes were already closed and he was trying to stay awake, but slowly drifting off from both physical and emotional exhaustion. Poor thing, Kakashi thought with a sad smile, as he slid his arm behind the younger man's legs to lift him up and place him gently onto the bed. Quickly feeding the slave's legs through his pyjama bottoms, Kakashi used one hand to lift Iruka's hips and hook the bottoms over them, before letting him sink back into the soft mattress. After adding a pair of thick socks, Kakashi took one last gaze at the sleeping slave. He was so proud of what they had achieved, and could not wait to tell Iruka again once he had woken.

"I'll bring you some tea soon," he whispered, smiling softly at Iruka. "Sleep well."

Leaving the room, he left the door ajar for some comfort on both their parts, before going downstairs to turn on the fire and warm the bricks.


	8. Chapter 8

A/N: Sorry it's been so long!

x—

Once Kakashi had finished cleaning up the bathroom after the bath session, it didn't take long for the jounin to become rather bored in his quiet home, unable to enjoy any of his hobbies without making too much noise. The slave was still fast asleep in his bedroom, and so Kakashi decided to take this small opportunity of freedom to pick up where he had left off in his favourite little book.

Sitting comfortably on his sofa, he turned the page, eager to learn this secret his favourite character had previously mentioned, despite having read the story more times than he dared to admit. It wasn't as easy to become as absorbed as usual, his mind obviously elsewhere as he kept his main focus on the silence upstairs. Surprisingly, it didn't bother Kakashi to have his attention divided in the privacy of his own home, to be separated from his Icha Icha series like this. He couldn't deny that he was beginning to enjoy Iruka's company in his home, to witness and be the one responsible for these immense changes the slave was achieving in such a short space of time.

He felt so proud of Iruka for seeing the bath session through, and couldn't wait to tell him again once the younger man had woken. Eye turning to the ceiling, he gave a small sigh of boredom, torn between his wish for Iruka to stick to the napping routine, and just wake up already so he could spend more time with the slave. There were so many other things he wanted to show and teach Iruka, his main agenda being to assist the slave in training that lazy tongue to find the words he wanted to say. Perhaps a small part of him was also curious to hear the younger male's voice, wanting to learn everything he could about Iruka.

Kakashi turned his gaze towards the window when he suddenly became aware of the faintest flicker of a chakra signature just outside his home, shifting away his thoughts as he became very still and sober, trying to anticipate who was loitering outside his home. He quietly snapped his book closed, not caring to remember the page number, as he had barely been taken by its chapter's charms to begin with today. Eye tightening in a focus, he listened as a heavy collection of footsteps made their way towards his door, his mind spinning for a meaning behind this uninvited appearance.

By now, Kakashi truly regretted risking taking Iruka shopping with him, showing his prisoner's face to hundreds of people just for the satisfaction of seeing Iruka's reaction to so many new and different things. Although he wanted to introduce Iruka to the freedom he had promised, the copy ninja could not deny that he had perhaps gotten a little carried away. Somebody had to have seen them, and now Kakashi would learn the consequence of his crime.

He stayed extremely still and quiet, giving the illusion that nobody was home. Then, without a knock, a white envelope was pushed under the door, and the presence vanished as quickly as it had come. Springing to his feet, Kakashi approached the window to catch a glimpse of his messenger with no success. They had gone.

Eye falling to the envelope on the floor, he tried to reassure himself that it was merely a chuunin messenger delivering him news. Standing over the white paper, he eyed it as though he was dealing with an explosive tag about to blow, and carefully pinched the envelopes corner with his finger and thumb.

Turning it over, he felt his breath catch in his throat when he noticed a familiar signature printed as a seal, and peeled it back to fish out the note inside. It was a letter from the Hokage, requesting Kakashi's presence in his office as soon as possible. Kakashi read the short letter over again, as though searching for clues as to what the Hokage might want with him; if there was something in particular he wished to speak about – if Asuma and Kurenai had told him about what they had witnessed.

He winced beneath his mask, trying to conjure a plan on how to approach the subject if it had truly been brought to the Hokage's attention. There was no point in dragging out his suspense and keeping the Hokage waiting, the jounin selfishly deciding he merely wanted to be put out of his misery and find out already if Iruka had been recognized. Sighing, Kakashi then buried the envelope into his pocket and turned to crouch down beside the radiator. He unlocked the chains from the naughty-spot, before making his way to the stairs.

His bedroom door where Iruka was sleeping was resting half open in the doorway. Kakashi stole a glance though the gap at the slave's sleeping frame, before quietly pushing the door further open. The slave didn't move, remaining snuggled up, face down into the warm, soft pillow. He was lying on his side, facing the wall with one woolly-socked foot hanging off the edge of the bed, indicating the signs of a busy sleeper. Kakashi smirked lightly in amusement behind his mask, listening to the long, healthy breaths the younger male took in his slumber.

Quietly approaching, he carefully lifted Iruka's ankle to place his foot gently back on the mattress. Again, the slave didn't respond, caught in a deep sleep presumably brought on by the emotional exhaustion Iruka had experienced in the bathroom. His movements silent and subtle, he leaned over the bed to attach one end of the chains to the headboard bar, before taking a delicate hold of the slave's wrist, and guiding his arm up.

The cuff locked around the slave's wrist with a loud click, making Kakashi wince behind his mask in fear of waking the man. He gave a silent apology to the slave, knowing that this was going to cause confusion for Iruka if he woke; in the past, the chains had only been used as a form of punishment. There was no alternative though, lest leaving Iruka to freely explore the ex-ANBU's home and expose himself to danger.

"I'll be back soon," he whispered to the slave, his voice so quiet it was almost inaudible, as he ran a gloved hand through the man's chocolate locks.

x—

Kakashi ensured that his home was securely locked from every door and window before leaving. He kept his pace quick as he hurried towards the Hokage's tower, wanting to return home as soon as possible, preferably before Iruka had woken up to find himself trapped inside the empty house.

He gave a deep sigh and rubbed his temple where a headache had begun to throb, as his mind raced through hundreds of scenarios likely to happen, and trying to choose a response which would have the best possible outcome. He decided that if Sarutobi confronted him about the rumour he had been told, then Kakashi would confess that he had found Umino Iruka and was providing the man a place to stay. He could not lie to Sarutobi-sama, however, at the back of his mind, the copy ninja wondered whether he would be so prepared to hand Iruka over if ordered...

Kakashi was no qualified carer, but he was convinced that the short time in which Iruka had stayed with him had already gained so much progress in the slave's psychological and physical wellbeing. Already, Iruka was beginning to trust him, and while Kakashi possessed little knowledge on the nature of Iruka's mental condition, he was confident he had the ability to care for Iruka. Because he did care, and also felt he owed this to Iruka, to fix what his involvement with Masaki had done to the man.

He was learning the types of food Iruka enjoyed, and how to prevent the nightmares which had been upsetting the slave. He knew how smart Iruka really was – that he was not damaged or broken, he just needed reintroduced to all of those things he had been forced to forget. And Kakashi was prepared to do that.

But he had a dark feeling Sarutobi-sama wouldn't see the situation the same way. In the eyes of the law, he had kidnapped and imprisoned a Leaf citizen in his home, and in some people's eyes, was depriving Iruka of medical attention he needed.

In Kakashi's view, handing Iruka over to some kind of mental institution would only force Iruka back into the position he had been in with Masaki – imprisoned, restrained, and alone. Iruka needed to understand that the life he had right now was not forever, and Kakashi believed that a place like that would only encourage Iruka to submit to his life as a slave.

With his argument rehearsed, Kakashi made his way up the stairs and into the corridor towards the Hokage's office. His foot steps echoed along the corridor, his pace slowing down now that he'd arrived. He was clearly nervous; deep down, Kakashi knew his actions had not entirely been right. Lifting his hand to knock, he froze when the old man called through the door for him to enter, presumably having heard his foot steps.

He opened the door and immediately met the Hokage's eyes, noticing a warm smile welcoming him inside the office, leaving Kakashi very confused as he lowered his head in a soft bow of respect.

"Hokage-sama." he greeted politely, keeping his tone calm.

"Take a seat, Kakashi," Sarutobi requested, gesturing to the chair in front of his desk as he lifted his long pipe to his lips.

"It's been a while, hasn't it?" he asked as the jounin sat down before him. "In fact, I haven't seen you around the Village at all lately..."

"Maa, I've been a little preoccupied... with personal matters..." Kakashi explained, knowing that the old man would not question any further, as he was aware Kakashi valued his privacy, a trait he had carried for years.

The old man gave a small laugh and nod. "You know I won't pry into your personal life, Kakashi, so long as you assure me there is nothing to be concerned about."

"Was this what you wanted to see me about?" Kakashi asked with a raised silver brow, unsure on what this meeting was about. "I assure you, Hokage-sama. I'm fine..."

"No," Sarutobi shook his head, lowering a hand to the drawer beneath his desk – much to Kakashi's notice, who froze in sudden fear. The old man then placed a sheet of paper on the desk, turning it for the jounin to read. "Here is your next assignment."

_Shit!_ Kakashi suddenly felt as though he had been punched in the gut, realising that the recovery time he had spent following his previous mission had expired, and he was now being assigned a new one. The blood must have vanished from his face because Sarutobi blinked at him with a confused stare, the jounin cursing himself for losing his self-control.

"Is something wrong?" Sarutobi sounded concerned, though his question had barely registered Kakashi's mind, who was currently scolding himself for not seeing this coming before.

Eye falling on the details of the mission, his stomach churned when he read the duration printed on the paper.

_Three days_, he was going to be absent from the Village. What the _Hell _was he doing to do with Iruka?!

"No," he murmured, glancing up at his superior and forcing a crinkled-eyed smile. "Maa, everything is fine."

Standing up, he took his assignment and rolled it up in his hands. Turning his gaze back to Sarutobi, he then lowered his head once more in a soft bow. "Thank you, Hokage-sama."

The old man stared in wonder as the jounin then left his office, closing the door behind him.

"Hmm... That boy gets stranger every time I see him..." he mused, placing his pipe to his lips again.

Releasing a sharp breath he hadn't realised he'd been holding, Kakashi gave a quiet groan as he slouched back against the wall in the corridor, unrolling the paper to look again at his assignment, as though convinced that he must have been mistaken.

He turned to glance at the Hokage's office door, his silver brows knitting in a weak frown as he considered that now may be the time to throw in the towel and confess to Sarutobi what had happened. Feeling so powerless was rare to Kakashi, who had always considered himself one who was supposed to know the answers, but this time, he didn't know what to do.

For three days he would be away from the Village, unable to care for Iruka, and Kakashi knew that at this moment in time, Iruka did not possess the ability to know how to care for himself. If Kakashi was to simply leave food out for the slave with instructions of a strict routine, he knew that Iruka would not be able to follow it. The food will be gone in a day, and the slave would more than likely starve until his master returned.

He also knew that leaving Iruka to roam free in his home was not a good idea, and Kakashi was not prepared to even consider keeping Iruka chained for that long.

What should I do? Kakashi asked himself. How could he keep Iruka safe and looked after?

Sighing, the jounin turned and walked down the corridor towards the stairs, a vague strategy forming together.

He couldn't deal with this on his own anymore; he needed help.

x—

"You know, you really shouldn't read that stuff," Asuma grinned around his cigarette, eyeing the woman's magazine in Kurenai's hands. "It's not realistic."

Crimson eyes flashed dangerously to him as Kurenai snapped the page over. "Oh?" She suddenly smirked. "If you hate it so much, then stop reading over my shoulder."

"O-Only the problem pages!" Asuma stuttered in protest, turning an unhealthy shade of red in embarrassment as he clamped his stumbling cigarette between his teeth. "...I kissed my partner; am I pregnant?" He barked out a laugh, and received a playful nudge from his 'friend.'

They both glanced to the doorway of the jounin lounge when sensing a familiar chakra signature, the copy ninja quickly revealing himself as he strolled into the room.

"Yo," he greeted, lifting a hand in a small wave, the other buried in his pocket as he slouched in his usual lazy posture. Unknown to them, Kakashi was already studying their eyes, trying to see for himself exactly what they knew. "How are you two doing?"

"Bewildered," Kurenai answered honestly, knowing that Kakashi was not one for small talk. "And quite upset actually," She suddenly gave a devious smirk. "It's alright, Kakashi. You didn't have to run from us. _I know."_

Kakashi's eye widened at that, form tensing. "You... do?" he asked quietly, stealing a glance of Asuma who looked utterly confused as to what they were talking about. He looked back to Kurenai, trying to keep his voice steady. "Have you told anyone?"

"What? That you have a boyfriend?" Kurenai scoffed, raising an insulted brow. "What do you take me for?"

Kakashi blinked, a dark blush suddenly rising to his face, thankfully unnoticed by his mask. He hadn't expected that response at all. "...Boyfriend?"

"I saw you with him, Kakashi," Kurenai laughed. "He looked quite cute actually." she added, receiving a small glare from Asuma, who immediately looked away when the copy ninja caught his eye.

"No!" Kakashi protested, blush creeping higher from underneath his mask. "He's not my boyfriend!"

"No?" Kurenai frowned, unable to help her curiosity towards the lonely copy ninja's new 'friend.' "Who was he, then?"

Kakashi bit his lower lip beneath his mask, tongue running along his inner teeth as he tried to remember the words he had rehearsed for his confession, but now that he was here, all thoughts had vanished and was replaced with an embarrassing deep blush from her suggestion.

"Maa..." he rubbed the back of his neck, looking down to the floor. "I needed to talk to you about that..."

Intrigued, Kurenai closed her magazine, giving the copy ninja her full attention. "Oh?"

Nodding, Kakashi took a seat on one of the chairs beside them, fidgeting with his gloved hands as he searched for the best way to explain. In the back of his mind he could hear his own voice reminding him that he still had the chance to abort and find another plan, but deep down Kakashi realised he was out of his depth. He needed their help, and to get it, he needed to tell them the truth.

"Do you remember the name Umino Iruka?"

Kurenai looked away in thought, the name familiar somewhere in the back of her memories however the face was missing.

"I think so," Asuma nodded, shifting forward on his chair a little as he took another drag of his cigarette. "KIA, right?"

"Oh!" Kurenai turned to her secret lover. "The genin who died on _that night_?" She turned back to Kakashi. "What about him?"

"That's the one," Kakashi nodded, keeping his voice low and his attention on the lounge doorway, ensuring nobody else could hear him.

"For eleven years it's been believed that Umino Iruka died on the night of the nine-tails..." He swallowed thickly, knowing there was no going back from here, and hoping for Iruka's sake that he was doing the right thing.

"Iruka isn't dead," he murmured, his two comrades staring at him in confusion and disbelief. "He's alive, and has been staying with me for the past three days."

"What?" Asuma frowned, lips parting again to speak but not knowing what to say.

"What the Hell are you talking about, Kakashi?" Kurenai snapped, trying to understand. "He's in your house? What... Where has he been?"

"Does the Hokage know?" Asuma interrupted, his voice suddenly very sober and sending a twist in Kakashi's stomach.

"Not yet..." Kakashi breathed, knowing he was a word out of line away from getting himself in serious trouble. "It's complicated... The Iruka living in my home right now is not the Iruka you knew."

"What does that mean?" Kurenai asked, becoming a little irritated at the jounin dodging her questions. "What's going on?"

Kakashi sighed, his mouth extremely dry behind his mask, his 'cool' posture beginning to fade as he became more nervous. "I don't know exactly what happened... Iruka can't even tell me..." He glanced weakly at his comrades, wanting them to understand, to hear him out before reacting. "He can't speak. I don't know why. He's... in a very bad way."

"What happened to him?" Asuma asked, relieving Kakashi a little as he realised the jounin was starting to believe him, and looked very concerned.

Taking a minute to think, Kakashi decided not to tell the full story for now. "I found him when returning from my last mission. He'd been locked up all this time, and beaten severely. I can't detect any of his chakra – it's like it's been drained. Everything has been drained... he's not even like a real person anymore..."

"What do you mean?" Asuma asked again, now convinced that his comrade was telling the truth.

"He doesn't understand anything anymore," Kakashi confessed, glancing at Asuma with an emotion of sadness in his eye, truly feeling sorry for the slave. "He's frightened of everything... He lashes out... Doesn't even know how to eat properly..."

He turned to Kurenai, a pleading look in his eye. "I need your help. I have to leave for a mission tomorrow, but I can't leave him alone. I need you to look after him until I return."

"Kakashi..." Kurenai's voice had turned very serious, her expression revealing that she clearly wasn't comfortable with this. "If this is true, then you need to take him to the Hokage..."

"I can't." Kakashi shook his head. "If I do that, he'll be sent away."

"He needs propper support." Kurenai argued, trying to help her comrade see sense.

"You said he lashes out..." Asuma interrupted. "How do you calm him down?" He ignored the look of disbelief Kurenai gave him, as though he was actually considering Kakashi's plan.

"I've designed a place for him to sit when he misbehaves. He's chained to the radiator until he calms down. He knows that's where he goes when he's done wrong."

His two comrades stared at him in shock.

"That's..." Kurenai breathed, staring at Kakashi in utter disbelief. "That's wrong! Kakashi, that's kidnapping!"

"I'm not kidnapping him!" Kakashi shot her a glare, becoming frustrated. "You don't understand! This man has no awareness of his own safety! He has no idea how to behave, and he needs to learn!"

He sighed. "Kurenai, I'm not just keeping him there locked up – I'm trying to teach him. That's why I took him to the shopping mall, to help him understand how to behave, and that's why I don't want him in a mental institution. When I chain him, he's there for fifteen minutes at most - In a hospital, he'll be restrained simply because he's a risk to others! Where's the freedom in that?"

"You don't know that, Kakashi..." Kurenai shook her head.

Asuma stayed quiet, torn between both sides in which he understood, though not knowing how to keep the peace.

"And you don't know Iruka," Kakashi murmured, raising another pleading brow. "Please, come and see for yourself first. Have dinner with us, and I'll show you that I can take care of him... That he's happy with me..."

Turning to her secret lover, Kurenai gave a long sigh, not knowing what to do. "I don't like this, Asuma..." she whispered, the male jounin smiling weakly around his cigarette.

"Let's go and see him, Kurenai... and we'll figure out what to do from there." Turning to Kakashi, Asuma gave the copy ninja a stern look. "We'll try and help if we can, but if the Hokage finds out, you're on your own. He won't know of our involvement, understood?"

Kakashi nodded, having expected that consequence from the start. "Understood."


	9. Chapter 9

Kakashi returned to his home as quickly as possible, fuelled by the chakra pulsing through his body and increasing his speed. To the uninvolved individual, the situation made no sense whatsoever, but Kakashi needed to remove those chains without the slave realising they were to begin with. To wake up and find himself restrained with the same chain which had been used to punish him earlier, Kakashi could only assume this would confuse Iruka and perhaps distress the man further at being punished with no explanation as to what he had done wrong. With Iruka already struggling to understand his place in this new home setting, Kakashi knew that complicating things even more would make things a lot worse.

Once reaching the doorstep, his hands span through a series of signs faster than he could follow himself, a race against time to maintain this inch of trust he had earned and keep things as simple as possible. Pushing open the door, he ran straight towards the stairs, switching on the lights along the way. He remained as quiet as he could, as though persuaded by his own wish for Iruka to still be sleeping. He listened for any sounds from the other side of the door but heard nothing, a silence that both eased and worried Kakashi as his mind unhelpfully decided to throw in the possibility that the slave had managed to somehow escape.

Quietly opening the door, Kakashi's eye lifted towards the bed where he saw the still, shadowed figure lying on the bed, and a heavy sigh of relief left his masked lips. Switching on the bedroom light, he crept over to the bed as he studied Iruka's sleeping form sprawled out on his stomach, face buried in the pillow. His right arm was stretched across the bed, still attached to the cuffs locked around the headboard. There was no marking to indicate any sign of struggle, giving Kakashi the relief that the slave had slept throughout the time which Kakashi had been absent.

Reaching over to grasp the chains, Kakashi held it as though they were made of feather, not wanting the slightest tug or sound to disturb Iruka's sleep. He swiftly unlocked it from Iruka's wrist, the younger man's hand falling gently onto the mattress as he unlocked the other end and forced the chains back into his pocket.

"Sai-kun," he called in a soft voice, his gloved hand resting gently on the slave's shoulder as he gave a slight nudge.

Iruka's hair was now mostly dry from his bath, and from the close distance, Kakashi could smell the subtle fruity scent coming off the clean, dark locks.

"Sai-kun," he called again, voice a little louder now. "It's time to wake up now..."

"Hmm..." the slave replied sleepily, his voice muffled inside the soft pillow. Kakashi smiled behind his mask, catching the slave's easiest way of saying 'I'm up.'

Without realising, Kakashi's pale fingers lightly stroked the slave's shoulder, the unfamiliar expression of affection seeming to come almost natural to him right now. Much to the jounin's surprise, the slave didn't even react, perhaps indicating that Iruka was becoming familiar with this gentle affection from his master. Either that, or he had fallen back asleep...

"Are you going to come downstairs?" he asked, as always, offering Iruka the choice to decide what he wanted to do – within reason, of course. "You can pour yourself a glass of orange juice if you like..."

At hearing that, Iruka sloppily shuffled onto his hands and knees and sat up, rubbing his tired eyes and moving the strands of hair from his face. Kakashi smirked behind his mask in amusement, noticing the thick lines printed in the slave's skin from the creases in the pillow.

"I take it you slept well," he laughed, though inwardly Kakashi wondered whether the tiredness was the effect given from his sharingan use during the bath session. He felt a pinch of guilt at that, however his logic argued with his conscience, knowing that it was the easiest and perhaps humane way of proving to Iruka that he was absolutely safe, even when practically sedated.

Without a single glance of request, Iruka stood up from the bed and walked towards the doorway, but he stopped as soon as he'd reached it, turning to his master and waiting for him to lead.

"I told you before, Sai," Kakashi stayed where he was by the bed, knowing what Iruka was thinking. "You can go wherever you please in this house. You don't need my permission."

Staring at his master, Iruka then looked back to the landing outside the bedroom, and took a few hesitant steps, before stopping and turning back to Kakashi with a questioning look in his eyes - as though asking 'what about this?' The jounin gave a smile that curled in his eye, signalling his approval, and it worked. A small smile tugged at the corner of Iruka's lips and he walked on, disappearing around the corner where Kakashi heard a collection of footsteps head downstairs.

Unable to help himself, a smile of disbelief slipped past Kakashi's lips behind his mask as he realised that Iruka was not at all angry with him after the bath session like last time, as though it had _finally_ triggered into Iruka's complicated head that he really meant no harm.

By the time Kakashi had come downstairs, Iruka was standing beside the fridge in the kitchen, waiting patiently for his master to take the orange juice carton out as promised. Opening the fridge, Kakashi took the carton, not wanting to go so far as to give Iruka permission to raid the fridge just yet, given the obvious reason concerning this food addiction Iruka seemed to have.

He set it on the counter beside an empty glass and moved away as the slave rushed in to pour it. Resting the carton against the glass, Iruka's tongue slipped past his lips in focus as he tilted it, the juice slowly filling the glass to the top – and without the smallest of drops hitting the counter. He took the glass in his hand and turned to look behind him as he heard his master searching inside one of the bottom cupboards for a cooking pan, his back turned to Iruka.

Seizing an opportunity, Iruka turned his back to his master and lifted the glass to his lips, swallowing back about a quarter of the juice - before he grabbed the carton again and he quickly refilled it. His heart raced with both victory and fear as he set the carton back down and lifted the glass to his lips again, sipping at the secret drops of juice he had managed to take.

To his surprise, Kakashi felt a small shadow of disappointment cross his heart, having heard the slave's sloppy actions. He guessed he had seen it coming, already aware of this obsession Iruka had with storing as much source of energy he could, even if it meant a few more drops of juice. It wasn't the fact that Iruka had taken more than he was offered that bothered Kakashi – it was the obvious way the slave had tried to disguise it, which Kakashi had noticed when stealing a glance of the sneaky slave using his own body to block Kakashi's sight from his actions. He had been dishonest, and Kakashi couldn't help but feel irritated by it, especially when he had tried so hard to show Iruka as much honesty and plain decency himself.

At first, Kakashi was going to ignore it, not wanting another tense atmosphere after having to scold the slave. But he realised he had no choice but to acknowledge it. This wasn't a way to behave, not in public or at home, and distantly Kakashi was wondering what may come of the accomplishment of getting away with something like that. What would be next? Would he have to keep an eye on the slave around the food in his house? Dealing with someone like Iruka, Kakashi wouldn't put it past him...

Although he didn't want to, he had to remember that Iruka was still a slave, trying to survive in the world he still believed he was living in. He cared nothing for manners and fairness, having lived the majority of his life being taught a different example. Even so, it was not the way to behave, and once again, Kakashi had to put that right.

"Sai."

Iruka must have sensed the coldness in his tone as he froze in his spot, staring at the wall in front of him, which told Kakashi that the slave knew_ exactly_ what he was upset about. He tensed as he felt his master approach and stand beside him, eyes slowly lifting to see the jounin tower over him once more.

"That was incredibly rude." Kakashi used his stern and disapproving tone, his disappointment showing clearly in his eye.

Iruka looked away guiltily, however the stubborn look in his eyes didn't go unnoticed by Kakashi, the attitude Masaki had warned him about once again evident.

"If you want some more, you only have to let me know," Kakashi scolded, eye tightening in a small glare. "You don't _take_ it and hope I won't notice. That's stealing."

Iruka kept his eyes on the half-empty glass in his hand, resisting the urge to take another sip of the delicious flavour and anger his master even more.

"I want you to sit in the naughty spot now."

Iruka's wide eyes snapped up at his master in shock, the strict glare in Kakashi's eye making it clear that he was not joking. A gloved hand suddenly reached out and grabbed the glass in his hand, trying to pull it from Iruka's grip, but Iruka's instinctively clenched his fingers around it with a grunt, his heart flaring in panic as his master tried to snatch away his drink.

"Let go, Sai." Kakashi demanded, the tug of war sending drops of juice onto the floor. "You can have it back afterwards!"

A strange roar left the slave's lips, designed as the word 'no.' His teeth gritted in anger as he gave his master a furious glare. It was _his_ drink, and his master had promised he wouldn't take his food and drink away from him!

The jounin snatched the glass from the slave, slamming it on the counter behind him. Unexpectedly, Iruka attempted to reach for it by trying to force his way past the jounin, his logic blinded by old habits and of course temper. Taking a hold of the slave's arms, Kakashi gently but firmly pushed the man back, merely gazing calmly into those tight, scorning eyes. Iruka was trembling with uncontrollable anger, glaring at his master in a threatening way, like a cornered prey playing the illusion of power to convince its predator it was not as weak as it seemed. Perhaps another habit designed when living with Masaki, Kakashi thought...

"You can look at me like that all you want," Kakashi murmured, folding his arms as he leant back against the counter, the glass of juice standing just behind him. "You don't frighten me."

He saw a glimpse of weakness in Iruka's expression as the slave realised Kakashi knew what he was attempting to do. On the contrary, it was Iruka who was afraid of his master, and Kakashi knew it.

"Into the naughty spot – now. Or I'll put you there, and you'll stay there until bed time." Kakashi murmured, his tone very serious.

Iruka's expression changed completely, his brown eyes widening in shock at the unexpected threat. He felt a shiver of fear rush down his spine, confusing him as to why it was there in the first place. He had suffered worse than his master's 'naughty spot.' It shouldn't have bothered him to much, to be restrained on the floor and ignored by his master – something he appreciated with Masaki when the fat man left him alone for a while in the shed. But this was different; he didn't want his new master to ignore him, because there wasn't really a reason to stay out of Kakashi's way in the first place.

His master then raised a firm brow, expecting a decision, and Iruka took a submissive step back with a nod, turning and disappearing into the living room.

Kakashi waited in the kitchen for a minute, taking this moment to release a breath of relief that the situation was dealt with. He had feared another 'fight' from the hot-headed brunette, but Iruka seemed to respond to this discipline. Now, Kakashi couldn't help but feel bad at behaving what looked so irrational over a mere glass of orange juice, but he was becoming familiar with Iruka's ways, and knew the slave would resort to almost anything to take the sources of energy his body needed to keep going. If he had ignored it, then what kind of message was he giving; that Iruka could take what he pleased and get away with it? Despite his understanding towards Iruka's suffering and state of mind, these rules needed to be put in place.

He entered the living room and glanced to the radiator where Iruka was sitting. Iruka's brown eyes lifted to him with a look of apology, now fully calmed down and knowing what he had done wrong. He noticed the familiar avoidance of eye contact as the jounin approached him while taking the chains from his pocket, and a sudden urge came over Iruka as he pleaded with his eyes for Kakashi to look at him. He wished he could say it. He was sorry.

He lifted a shaking hand to his master, accepting his punishment as Kakashi took his tanned wrist and locked the chains around it, attaching it to the pipe of the radiator. "Thank you." Kakashi said quietly, his voice now calm and all sign of anger vanished.

Iruka's eyes lifted, following his master as the jounin stood up and disappeared back into the kitchen. The glass of juice had left Iruka's mind completely, now focussed on his master's movements in the kitchen as the slave leant back against the radiator, making himself comfortable to do his time. Naturally, he reflected back on the incident, understanding why his master was angry with him. He shouldn't have taken the juice like that, not when he knew his master would have let him have some more if he'd asked.

These were the moments Iruka had the closest to what could be described as a fun time when living with Masaki. Despite his suffering, Iruka had never lost his sense of humour, though it was mostly at Masaki's expense. When locked inside the sheds throughout the day and night, the mind becomes tired and bored, begging for some form of activity or entertainment. Iruka's favourite and most memorable trick he had played was during the times when he was expecting a client viewing, and as Masaki opened his shed door to the rich, fussy customer, Iruka was found sprawled out on his back, eyes rolled up past his lids and his tongue sticking out along his cheek, playing a dramatic game of 'dead.' Hell, it was worth the beating afterwards; the desperate look on Masaki's strained face as he chased his displeased clients was hilarious.

After fifteen minutes or so, Kakashi returned to the living room, much to Iruka's notice, who looked up a the older male with a timid stare, not knowing whether his master was still angry.

Approaching, Kakashi then knelt down opposite Iruka. He met the slave's eyes, noticing an immense difference in Iruka's expression compared to the previous time they had done this. He didn't look frightened at all, but calm, as though he trusted that Kakashi would not hurt him.

"You know why I've put you here, don't you?" Kakashi asked, using his familiar stern tone as Iruka nodded softly. "I don't mind you having seconds, but not behind my back," his voice was calmer now, offering a peaceful conversation. "I'm trying so hard to earn your trust, Sai. It would mean a lot to me... But I want to trust you too. Do you understand?"

The slave looked truly taken back by his comment, unsure on how to respond as he had never been told such a thing. His master wanting his trust, as though they were equals...

"It's not only that though," Kakashi murmured, licking his dry lips behind his mask, slightly strained after rehearsing this conversation in the kitchen. "I'm sure you're aware that the food portions you received from Masaki weren't enough. You've been living on these small amounts and your body has adapted to them,"

He lifted his eyes back to Iruka, holding a look of understanding. "I know you feel hungry a lot, but we need to keep the portions low and increase them gradually, otherwise you're going to get sick. That means we need to control your diet and fluid intake. Do you understand what I'm saying, Sai?"

Iruka nodded distantly, looking down at the floor, uncomfortable with the long duration of eye contact. This was the first time anyone had sat down and explained something to him, and involving him in the decision towards his own life. Stealing a glance of Kakashi's eye, he felt a small spark of respect for the man, who he was now beginning to realise actually seemed to care about him. At that, he felt an immense feeling of regret at what he had done; stealing from he man who was treating him as though they were equal.

Kakashi's eye then curled in a soft smile, which Iruka picked up on from last time. He was beginning to recognize the pattern in this naughty spot method; once he'd done his time, all was forgotten.

Kakashi took the key from his pocket and unlocked the chain from Iruka's wrist, freeing him from his restraints. Then, to Iruka's surprise, Kakashi lifted his hand to the other, offering a gesture Iruka had seen many times between Masaki and his clients.

"Friends?" his master asked, raising a peaceful brow.

His eyes widened, overwhelmed by the gesture his Master was offering to the slave. He felt a strange sensation in his stomach, a faint fluttering which made him blush for reasons beyond his understanding. Hesitantly he lifted his hand, and Kakashi smirked playfully as he squeezed it gently with a shake.

Standing up, Kakashi straightened out his clothes, before offering Iruka a helping hand as the slave stood up. "Your juice is on the counter," Kakashi said, following through with his promise that Iruka would have it back.

A soft, grateful smile curled on Iruka's lips, and he headed straight towards the kitchen to finish his juice. The hesitance in his steps had faded a little, as he had turned without question or confirmation for his permission. A minor detail, but major progress in Kakashi's eyes, as he sensed how comfortable Iruka seemed to be in settling.

Things were improving, and Kakashi knew he was about to – yet again – throw another spanner in the works with the two 'guests' arriving tomorrow.

"And they say parenting is complicated," Kakashi chuckled weakly, rubbing the back of his neck, as he wondered how on Earth he was going to make this work.


	10. Chapter 10

Kakashi had spent the last two hours preparing his home so it was suitable for Asuma and Kurenai's visit tonight. He had made sure each room was reasonably neat and tidy, knowing that the condition of his home would greatly influence Asuma and Kurenai's views as to whether it was liveable for Iruka. Of course, the jounin ensured to hide away his most valuable possessions which contained his memories; eager for their approval, but not so desperate as to lay out his privacy for others to see. After all, this was not about him.

He had explained the situation to Iruka this afternoon over lunch, that he had to go away on business tomorrow morning, and that his two close friends were going to stay with him during his absence. As Kakashi predicted, the explanation had left Iruka extremely confused, having recently been forced into a setting of dramatic change, and now things had gotten even more complicated for the slave. The conversation had been difficult for Kakashi, who had to try and guess what questions Iruka may have concerning what was happening, as the slave hadn't the ability to ask himself. But it seemed his efforts had once again failed to an extent, as the slave had refused to move from the sofa in the living room for the past two hours. Though Kakashi hadn't put much force into persuading Iruka to budge from what seemed to be a sulk, as he was aware that Iruka was struggling to understand the situation, and deserved some time to himself to think.

Finishing off in the kitchen, Kakashi poured another glass of orange juice and brought it to Iruka in the living room, holding the glass towards a subdued Iruka.

"Drink?" he asked, figuring the slave had had enough time to digest the news, and communicate with him.

Iruka took the glass and sipped on it, his brown eyes fixed on the locked windows opposite him, staring past the netted curtains.

Kakashi sighed, his concern growing. "Sai..." He sat beside the man, keeping a respectful distance as he sensed the slave was angry with him. "It's only for three days... and then I'll be back..."

The slave's chocolate eyes lowered to the floor, no longer even making the effort to voice his response as he knew he couldn't, something that frustrated Kakashi a little as he could not figure out what exactly it was that was bothering him.

"What troubling you, Sai?" Kakashi asked, raising a soft brow as he tried to understand. "Asuma and Kurenai will treat you well, I promise. They would never harm you..." He bit his lower lip behind his mask, trying to meet the slave's eyes. "Maa, I would never let anyone hurt you, Sai. I care about you, you should know this by now."

Finally, Iruka gave him a glimpse of eye contact, but Kakashi could see a frightened expression painted in his features, as though Kakashi's promise was not enough to convince him. Unless...

"Is it something else?" Kakashi focussed on the slave's face intently, searching for answers. "You can tell me, I won't be angry... Is it something else?"

Iruka was looking at the floor again and sipping his orange juice. He gave a small nod in response before exhaling a sigh, the communication barrier clearly not only frustrating for Kakashi.

"Right..." Kakashi took a moment to think, analysing the situation from Iruka's point of view, trying to find the answer. "Are you worried I won't come back?"

Iruka shook his head. Kakashi sighed, tapping his fingers against the sofa as he continued to think. "Is it the food? You think Asuma and Kurenai might not feed you?"

Again Iruka shook his head, increasing Kakashi's frustration as he struggled for another suggestion.

"I know!" Kakashi suddenly jumped to his feet, surprising Iruka as the jounin crouched at the side table in search of something. He pulled out an old opened envelope and a pen, before placing them on Iruka's lap and returning to sit by his side.

"Do you remember how to write?" Kakashi asked, his hopes quickly vanishing as he watched the slave struggle to hold the pen properly, but it was clear the slave recognized what it was. "Try..." he encouraged, desperation subtly hinted in his tone as he wanted to know what was bothering Iruka.

Tongue slipping past his lips, Iruka concentrated as he searched for the letters in his mind, but all that came was a blank. He could not remember what the letters looked like, let alone which order they went in to symbol what he wanted to say. He could not even remember how to spell his own name.

"Draw?" Kakashi quietly suggested, sensing a feeling of irritation beginning to boil inside the slave, as the simplest of things was becoming a challenge to express what he wanted to say.

Dropping the pen on the envelope, the slave pressed his hand into his forehead with a low groan. He didn't know what to draw.

"It's alright..." Kakashi reassured, resting a hand on Iruka's arm. "Can you try and show me?" He wasn't giving up so easily, as he could see that Iruka was eager to get his point across.

Iruka looked at him questioningly, not understanding what he meant.

"I mean, try and show me what you're thinking... Point, mimic... anything..."

Placing a finger to his lips, Iruka took a minute to think. He then turned to face his master and stretched his hand out towards him, but stopped abruptly in hesitance.

Kakashi chuckled, opening out his arms. "You can touch me, Sai-kun. We're friends, remember?"

Nodding softly, Iruka slowly reached towards the material of Kakashi's lower pocket, the jounin's eye studying the movement carefully.

"Erm..." Kakashi frowned, taking a stab in the dark. "Money?"

A small smile slipped on Iruka's lips and he nodded, encouraging Kakashi in this guessing game as he focussed harder. Brows knitting in thought, Iruka then clamped his hand around his own tanned wrist, signalling his next word.

"Chains." Kakashi guessed correctly, watching as the slave then pointed to himself. "Right!" He shifted his weight in almost excitement, convinced he had grasped it. "Selling!" he said, making Iruka jump a little as the slave's eyes widened. "You think that I might sell you to Asuma and Kurenai!"

Iruka didn't respond, merely staring at his master quite seriously, making it clear to Kakashi that he had worked it out. At that look, Kakashi felt a shadow of guilt cross his heart.

"No!" he protested, shaking his head as he stared deeply into Iruka's eyes. "I would never sell you, Sai. I promise. This is only temporary, and then I'll come back to you."

Nodding, Iruka gave a small smile, trusting his master's word.

Kakashi smiled behind his mask, resting his jaw in his hand. "You know what," he gave a playful smirk. "If you can do this for me, and be good for Asuma and Kurenai, then when I come back, I'll buy you a_ big _dolphin blanket to go with your teddy, and that will be _your _blanket. No one else can use it."

He chuckled at Iruka's expression, noticing the crimson blush rising to the surface of the slave's face at such an offer. Something personal to go with the name Kakashi knew Iruka was secretly aware he possessed, and a possession of his own. Kakashi was sure it had been a long time since Iruka had owned something, and knew the offer to have something like that was one he could not resist.

"What do you think of that, huh?" Kakashi grinned, showing enthusiasm towards what was clearly a big deal to Iruka. "You think you can do that for me?"

A shy smile was evident on Iruka's lips, and the slave gave a small nod.

"Alright!" Kakashi laughed, taking Iruka's hand and giving it a gentle shake. "Deal."

Iruka laughed, unaware the noise was music to Kakashi's ears. _Like businessmen, _Iruka thought in amusement, as he gave Kakashi a look of fondness. He really liked his new master.

x-

"I'm really not comfortable with this..." Kurenai voiced her opinion for what felt like the twentieth time that hour.

Exhaling a cloud of smoke from his cigarette, Asuma sighed. "I know, love."

They crossed the busy markets, making their way towards Kakashi's home. A strange feeling was following Kurenai, as her crimson eyes subtly darting around her in suspicion, as though convinced they were being watched. She was extremely sober to the fact that what they were agreeing to could get them into a lot of trouble.

"I'm being serious, Asuma," she said quietly. "If we get there, and that poor man is chained up like an animal, I will not be responsible for my actions."

"I know," Asuma repeated, unsure on what else to say. He did not want to take sides just yet, still holding faith in his oldest friend that Kakashi knew what he was doing. "Let's just wait and see." He rubbed his bearded jaw, looking up. "It will be interesting to see what he looks like now, don't you think?"

"Yeah," Kurenai nodded, an old and distant image of the young boy, Iruka rising to the surface of her mind. "It will be strange to not use his name... What was it again?"

"Sai." Asuma reminded her, a weak smile of amusement forming on his lips despite the dangerous situation. "It doesn't suit him, does it?"

x-

Kakashi watched with a smile as Iruka brushed his own hair, straightening out the beautiful chocolate locks. The slave was a fast learner, and looked quite handsome in the black jeans and white long-sleeved t-shirt Kakashi had lent him, however the clothes were still quite baggy on the slave, reminding Kakashi that Iruka still needed to put on some weight.

Iruka flinched in startle when hearing someone knocking on the door, which didn't go unnoticed by Kakashi, who squeezed the man's shoulder gently in reassurance as he stood up.

"It's okay," he said quietly, approaching the door.

Iruka held his breath as the jounin unlocked the door, nervous but not knowing why. He had never done this before, to meet someone who had no intentions of buying him. That meant there would be no stares in deciding his value, no experiments with hands touching him, exploring his features, his strength, and pain tolerance. He had no idea what he was expected to do around these people, and the new experience was frightening.

He felt his body freeze as Kakashi opened the door, and watched with wide, intrigued eyes as a woman walked through the door, acknowledging Kakashi with a polite smile, before turning her attention to Iruka.

The slave could not move, frozen in his spot on the sofa as he stared at her. She was... beautiful. She had lovely, long dark hair, and crimson eyes staring at him. Her eyes looked as though they were filled with warmth, as if she knew him. Despite himself, Iruka lowered his eyes, unable to keep the eye contact. A strange urge passed through him, wanting her to pull him close so he could smell her sweet scent. She looked like his mother.

Next, a tall man entered, and Iruka felt his shoulders shrink quite obviously, intimidated. He looked very strong, and Iruka forgot Kakashi's words for a moment as his old habits returned, making him tremble in fear at the thought of angering the man.

Kurenai and Asuma stared in long silence, overwhelmed with shock at the reality of the situation. Iruka looked so different, like a man! He was very handsome, however the slave's behaviour quickly caught their attention, and, flustered with guilt, they turned back to Kakashi to start off some small talk, if only to calm Iruka a little.

"I see you've tidied the place up then," Kurenai snorted. Unknown to Iruka, her friendly behaviour was forced, as Kakashi knew the kunoichi was not at all happy with what was going on, but merely going along with this.

"Hai," Kakashi gave a weak chuckle, before gesturing towards Iruka's direction. "This is Sai-kun. A very good friend of mine," He noticed Iruka look at him with an expression of relief. He looked as though he suddenly felt safe, now that Kakashi had confirmed in public his promise to ensure Iruka's safety. "Sai-kun," Kakashi called him, offering a soft smile that curled in his eye. "This is Kurenai, and Asuma, also good friends of mine."

Asuma gave a small wave and smile, but did not approach, sensing that Iruka was intimidated by his presence and not wanting to make things worse. Kurenai walked over to the sofa where Iruka was sitting and, crouching slightly, she gave Iruka the warmest, most soft smile she could design, noticing that Iruka's eyes were drawn to her smile.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Sai-kun," she greeted, remembering to use the name Kakashi had requested. Despite her attitude, Kurenai truly meant no harm. On the contrary, she cared a lot about this innocent victim.

Iruka was obviously overwhelmed by the attention, and he stared at her with wide eyes, which had started to water. Kurenai blinked, quickly backing off by taking a small step back as she watched in concern.

Kakashi frowned. "Are you alright, Sai?"

"Mm..." Iruka replied as best as he could, looking back up at Kurenai. Inside, he could feel a strange warmth flaring in his heart, so many emotions racing at once he could not describe. He was not used to being treated so well.

"Do you think we should leave?" Asuma whispered to Kakashi, who was watching Iruka intently, believing he knew what was making Iruka cry. He lifted his hand to Asuma, signalling him to wait a moment.

"She's nice, isn't she," Kakashi smiled, and received a small nod from Iruka. "Why don't you offer Kurenai-chan a seat?"

Iruka blinked in confusion, before he panicked and stood up from the sofa, moving out of the way. Kakashi laughed, moving from the doorway as he guided Iruka back to the sofa to sit.

"I didn't mean like that," he smiled, patting the now empty space beside Iruka. "I just meant so there was more room for her to sit down."

Smiling, Kurenai sat down beside Iruka, though kept a respectful distance for the slave's comfort. "Kakashi-san told me you two went shopping together. Was it fun?"

After a short silence, Iruka nodded, giving his shirt a small tug in a form of gesture.

"Oh, you bought that? It's lovely! Asuma, come and look at Sai-kun's new shirt!" she called her lover, trying to involve Asuma in this awkward meeting.

Iruka tensed again as he saw Asuma approach in the corner of his eye, leaving Kakashi with the feeling that it would take a while for the slave to feel comfortable in the presence of other males.

Kakashi knew that Iruka was comparing this meeting to the closest thing he could relate to, which was when being viewed by the clients back at Masaki's mansion. Having been involved in this business for some time, Kakashi was aware of the types of characters involved in this slavery business. They were usually all male, very rich, and powerful. There were many reasons for buying slaves; to sell them on as part of their own business, to keep them as servants and paid with scraps of food and water. Or there were the men preferred to keep the slaves for their own personal reasons; pleasure. In this case, the clients would want to test the slaves before buying them, and Kakashi could only imagine the kinds of torture Iruka faced with these men.

He wanted so much to pull Iruka into his arms and reassure him that he would never let _anyone _lay a finger on him again. But he wanted Iruka to realise for himself through Asuma's true and good nature that those days of torture were over.

Kakashi let Asuma approach, and let him kneel in front of a tense Iruka, and let him touch the slave's clothing.

"Ahh, that's very cool!" Asuma grinned, letting go of the material now that he'd shown some harmless physical contact. "It suits you well."

After a few seconds, Kakashi could see that Iruka was scared. There were too many people around him, and too many eyes on him. "Maa, shall we go and eat?" he suggested, receiving a nod from Kurenai as she stood up from the sofa.

"Why don't I make pancakes? I'm sure Sai-kun would enjoy some cooking with a woman's touch," She laughed and gave the slave a playful wink.

"Fine," Kakashi shrugged. "Everything you need should be there somewhere."

Kurenai turned on her heel and disappeared in the kitchen, an awkward-feeling Asuma following quickly behind with the suggestion of helping. Kakashi sat down beside Iruka with a content sigh, turning to Iruka with a smile in his eye.

"I'm really proud of you." he murmured. Iruka smiled at him, feeling comfortable again now that he was alone with his master. "Are you alright?"

Iruka nodded in honesty, and turned to the doorway to listen to the distant chatter in the kitchen. It seemed Iruka was just as fascinated with their guests as they were with him.

"Asuma-san is nice too," Kakashi said quietly. "Give him a chance, you'll see."

x-

Kakashi ensured that Iruka was sitting between himself and Kurenai during their dinner, with Asuma sitting opposite Iruka at the table. While he wanted Iruka to feel comfortable around Asuma, he knew it would take some time.

Asuma was standing by the window smoking his cigarette, as he watched his lover rummage through the cupboards in search of the bag of sugar Kakashi promised was stored somewhere inside.

"Aha!" Kurenai shouted in victory, grasping the bag of sugar and a container of lemon juice which Kakashi had no idea he owned.

"Now you can't have pancakes without lemon juice," Kurenai lectured to Iruka as she placed on the table. She then turned to collect the cutlery, unaware of Iruka's eyes studying the objects on the table.

Luckily, Kakashi was watching in the corner of his eye, and gave the illusion of not noticing as Iruka hesitantly pulled the bag of sugar towards him, exploring what was inside. Kakashi allowed it; this was Iruka's home after all, and Kakashi had learned throughout his time with Iruka that sometimes it was better to pick his battles, than be so strict.

Iruka then explored the yellow, plastic container of lemon juice, smelling the strong scent. Frowning, he licked his lips in temptation, and gave the object a light squeeze. A thick stream of lemon juice shot from the container and into Iruka's face, and the chair legs screeched against the floor as the slave jumped back with a cry of pain, holding his hand to his burning eye.

Kakashi immediately stood up and approached the sink, soaking a tea towel with cold water before he appeared at Iruka's side, crouched down beside him.

"It's alright," he murmured, gently peeling Iruka's hand from his eye and pressing the soaked towel against it. Iruka whimpered in pain, holding his hand over Kakashi's and pressing the cold towel tightly against his eye, taking relief in the cool drops of water soaking his eye.

Flicking his cigarette out of the window, Asuma approached the two, taking this opportunity to try and earn some trust from Iruka. "Let me see,"

Kakashi moved over a little, knowing what Asuma was doing and letting the bearded man take his place. Holding his hands either side of Iruka's head, Asuma lifted the man's head slightly. "Open your eye please, Sai-kun..."

Iruka's eye twitched open, red and sore and still burning. Asuma turned to Kakashi, raising a questioning brow. "Can I?"

Kakashi nodded, "Sure," trusting his comrade.

"Stay still for me," Asuma said softly, holding his palm over Iruka's eye, the slave tensing tightly against his warm hand. He focussed his chakra and let it flow, using it to sooth Iruka's eye with relief, and neutralize the lemon acid.

Iruka whimpered, receiving a soft hum of sympathy from Asuma. "I know, it's all gone now,"

He then quickly released Iruka, restoring his comfort zone as the slave closed his eye to touch it, the burning sensation now gone. Kakashi gave Asuma a small nod of thanks, feeling a new level of respect for his comrade. Opening his eye, Iruka looked up at Asuma behind hooded lashes, and the smallest of smiles curled on his lips in appreciation.

"You're welcome, Sai-kun," Asuma smirked, sitting down at the table opposite him.

Watching Iruka, Kakashi smiled behind his mask again. He had predicted what would happen with the lemon juice, but like a child, Kakashi believed the slave would not have listened to his word that it was not a good idea to play with it, believing that it was best for the slave to simply learn for himself. Just like Kakashi's father had done when a toddler-Kakashi kept poking at that hot light bulb.

"Are you alright now?" Kurenai asked with a sympathetic smile, having resisted her motherly-urges once Asuma had stepped in.

"Mm." Iruka nodded, surprising Kakashi as the jounin noticed how vocal the slave had become, despite it only being a mere sound. He could sense that Iruka was responding well to Kurenai, something that gave the jounin a slight twitch of jealousy, as it had taken him days to earn the privilege of a vocal response. Kurenai had been here ten minutes...

He decided he was being silly. He should be happy that Iruka was responding well, though the hint of emotion opened Kakashi's eyes to the realisation that he felt something for Iruka. What it was, he wasn't sure, but there was something about Iruka's presence that gave Kakashi a feeling of purpose, and comfort. Deep down, if asked the question out loud, Kakashi was not sure if he could give Iruka away, even if the help offered was more beneficial than anything he had to offer. He enjoyed being Iruka's care-giver, and being the one person the slave trusted most.

He was being selfish, he knew. This was not about him, it was about what was best for Iruka. He mentally chastised himself for thinking such things, knowing what his two comrades would think of him if he let those thoughts slip. He was on thin ice as it was.

Finally, the pancakes were ready, and Kurenai brought a stack of them on a large plate and placed it down in the middle of the table. Asuma grimaced behind his hand at the sight, secretly having a strong dislike for such sweet food, but willing to eat it for the sake of peace. Iruka swallowed thickly, almost intimidated at seeing so much food at once. He licked his lips, stomach rumbling in excitement.

Kakashi carefully took Iruka's plate, pulling it slowly towards him as those brown eyes watched his movements. His trust towards his master was not questionable, but Kakashi knew the slave's eating habits were going to take a while to fade, and so he kept his movements slow, showing no threat towards Iruka's dinner. He took the pancake from the top and dropped it on Iruka's plate, the slave's fingers, twitching against the table in impatience, eager to eat his dinner.

Taking a spoonful of sugar he sprinkled it over the pancake, before squirting the lemon juice on top. Iruka watched his every move, eyes following each condiment, before his master rolled the pancake up like a sausage.

"Watch," Kakashi whispered, staying subtle for the sake of Iruka's dignity, as he cut the pancake up into individual pieces. He then handed Iruka the fork, silently suggesting for him to use it, before pushing the plate back towards him.

Iruka stabbed the pancake with his fork and guided it to his mouth, humming in content at the different, delicious flavours.

"Nice?" Kakashi asked with a grin, the slave nodding enthusiastically while stabbing into his next piece. The two shinobi then prepared their own pancakes, while Kurenai hunted for suitable drink. "There's some juice in the fridge for me and Iruka," Kakashi murmured, chewing pancake behind his mask. "You two have whatever is there." He wasn't going to introduce Iruka to alcohol just yet, figuring it was a disaster waiting to happen.

Iruka ignored the complicated conversations that took place concerning business, or rather missions. As the four of them ate, they paid no mind to Iruka's messy eating habits, following Kakashi's lead when the jounin waved a subtle hand in dismissal as the lemon juice dripped down Iruka's chin and neck, disappearing past his t shirt. Kakashi was thankful that Asuma and Kurenai didn't acknowledge it. As for Iruka, Kakashi didn't know where to start. The slave had resisted all temptation of using his hands, copying their methods of cutlery use, even watching Asuma cut his pancake and trying to cut his own using the same method.

Once Iruka had finished his first pancake, Kakashi placed another slice on the man's plate and pushed the sugar and lemon juice towards him, wanting to see Iruka try for himself. Iruka was learning fast, preparing his own pancake with sugar and lemon juice, though his rolling was quite loose due to his first attempt. Taking and knife and fork, Iruka was in a world of his own, his entire attention focussed on this single pancake roll, as he tried to slice the fork across it.

An ear-piercing screech filled the room as the knife scraped across the plate. Kakashi stopped eating, noticing the look of embarrassment on Iruka's face as everyone looked at him. Despite feeling sorry for him, Kakashi couldn't help but also feel proud, because Iruka was beginning to understand the importance of what was and was not acceptable during the company of others.

Kakashi extended his hand to reach Iruka's plate to help, but a well-meaning Asuma got there first, and Kakashi could only cringe behind his mask as the bearded man pulled the slave's plate away from him.

Iruka nearly flinched out of his skin, tanned hands slamming over his plate as he gave a low, deep growl towards Asuma, his once innocent chocolate eyes turning a threatening look of warning.

"Sai," Kakashi called, and was ignored by the slave who snatched the plate back in front of him, his eyes still fixed on a startled Asuma, who was staring back at him in complete confusion as to what he had done wrong.

"Sai." Kakashi called again, but was unable to reach Iruka's attention, as the slave was still silently promising Asuma a violent response if the bearded man did not move away. Now.

Deciding it had gone too far, Kakashi suddenly stood up from his chair, the legs scratching against the floor with a screech. He towered over Iruka, knowing_ that _would get his attention. The slave jumped from his spot, wide eyes snapping up at Kakashi and breath catching in his throat as his master gave him a fierce and strict glare of warning.

"Asuma was helping you. Why are you being rude to him?"

Iruka's expression changed entirely as he weakly lowered his gaze, releasing his grip on the plate.

"Any more of that, and you'll sit in the naughty spot after dinner. Understand?" Kakashi warned, also wanting Kurenai and Asuma to understand how the naughty spot worked, and that it was not as cruel as it seemed once they had gotten to know Iruka's temper.

Iruka gave a small nod, in a seeming sulk as he glared at the table as the jounin sat back down.

"I'm really sorry about that, Asuma," Kakashi apologised, but the bearded jounin waved it off, turning his attention back to Iruka.

"Would you like me to help you cut your pancake?" Asuma asked, trying to show a friendly tone.

Iruka was about to throw him another scowl of decline towards the helpful offer, not wanting anyone to steal_ his_ dinner, but an unexpected voice changed his mind.

"Sai," Kurenai called him, offering a motherly voice of understanding. "No one is going to take your pancake, lovely... Let him help..."

Iruka stared at her, having almost forgotten her presence. He could see all three of them now staring at him, all three of them on Asuma's side, and not his. He glared at his pancake and sighed in defeat, releasing his plate and resting his hands on his lap, leaving his food unguarded and 'up for grabs.' He watched as Asuma cautiously slid the plate towards himself, and quickly sliced the pancake into individual pieces.

Kakashi watched incredulously as Iruka willingly let go of his food. Although it was reluctant and under pressure, it was the first time Iruka had done that without the use of force. He couldn't help but feel sorry for the slave, knowing that Iruka had really tried his best this evening.

Iruka's eyes were fixed on his plate, unable to tear them away. Asuma then quickly pushed it back to the younger male, moving his hand away again as fast as possible to prove his good intentions. Staring at his pancake, Iruka felt a strange feeling overwhelm him, and he lifted his eyes weakly to Asuma, offering a subtle apology. Asuma smiled in return, beginning to understand Iruka's situation with food, as Kakashi had explained before.

x-

"I'm really sorry about that, Asuma," Kakashi winced behind his mask, unable to help but feel a little embarrassed.

"Don't worry about it," Asuma shrugged, leaning against the outside wall of Kakashi's house and taking another drag of his cigarette. "Though... Is it just me, or do you two get the impression that he doesn't like me?"

"Maa..." Kakashi sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "You should have seen what he was like with me," he laughed nervously as he rolled up his sleeve, revealing the healing wound where the slave had bitten into his skin. "He did this to me the first time I tried to bath him."

"Bloody Hell," Kurenai gasped, inspecting the bite.

"Yeah," Kakashi smirked. "I think he's intimidated by other men. Just give him time, he'll come round – he did with me."

"How do you get him to listen to you?" Asuma asked, not feeling very confident after receiving the impression that Iruka really was not keen on him.

Kakashi sighed. "Just give him the same respect that you want from him. Explain what you want from him, and make sure it's clear and simple, so he can understand. That said though, Iruka is not stupid," Kakashi whispered, keeping the slave's true name in a low voice. "His instincts are just a little muddled up, that's all."

Looking up from the ground, Kurenai gave Kakashi a look of pity. "Was he starved? Is that why he's so protective of his food?"

Kakashi nodded, "Yeah..." he whispered, looking down in sympathy. "He didn't mean what he did today."

"I know," Kurenai nodded with a sad smile. "He's lovely, isn't he? He reminds me of a child..."

"Is there anything else we need to know?" Asuma asked.

Kakashi blinked, surprised. "Does that mean you're agreeing?"

Asuma and Kurenai glanced at each other, sighing. "Like I said, Hatake, if you get caught, you're on your own." Kurenai answered seriously, not wanting any part in the consequences.

"Understood." Kakashi nodded. "Your names won't be mentioned."

"Is he staying here, or coming to ours?" Asuma frowned, inhaling another drag of his cigarette.

"Whatever is easier for you," Kakashi sighed. "I would prefer for Iruka to stay where he's familiar with, but I understand if it's too difficult with your missions."

"It's difficult as it is," Kurenai shrugged, turning to Asuma. "Let's leave him here. There's no point in upsetting him further, is there? Don't worry about the missions – we'll work around it." She smiled.

Kakashi returned her smile, his expression showing nothing but honesty and appreciation for the help he was receiving, and really needed. "Thank you so much."

"So," Kurenai raised a brow. "Is there anything else we need to know?"

"Um," Kakashi glanced up in thought. "Don't bath him, he's still not comfortable with it. If he gets messy, just wipe him down. There's some wipes in the bathroom cupboard, though it'll probably be best to do that in his bedroom, as he's not keen on the bathroom in general," he chuckled. "Also, he can be..." He squinted his eye, trying to find the right word. "Quite sneaky... So keep an eye on him, especially around the fridge. He has three meals a day, but keep the portions small. As you guessed Kurenai, he's not used to eating much..."

"Right..." Kurenai breathed out, nodding weakly. "We'll make sure one of us is with him all the time."

"I really appreciate this," Kakashi murmured, glancing to both of his comrades. "Any problems, I'll take care of when I return in three days."

"Alright," Asuma nodded, offering his friend a small bow of respect. "We'll see you tomorrow."

"Say good night to him for me," Kurenai smiled as she turned on her heel. "Night, Hatake"


	11. Chapter 11

A/N: I'm so sorry for the delay. I had re-written this entire chapter about five times until I was happy with it. The next chapter will be up very soon - I promise!

x-

Kakashi woke Iruka a little earlier than usual to ensure that all essential needs were met in time before he had to leave. As the sleepy slave sat down at the table waiting for breakfast, Kakashi had already began preparing two slices of buttered toast.

"Asuma and Kurenai will be here in an hour," Kakashi murmured as he spread a generous amount of jam over the toast and placed the plate in front of Iruka. The hungry slave quickly gripped it. "Maa, we need to get you washed and dressed after breakfast."

Iruka's face expression stilled behind his toast and he stopped chewing, a familier twisting in his stomach distracting him from his breakfast. Just the mention of a bath seemed to put the slave off his food, as the slave avoided his master's gaze in hopes of a shift in change in decision. But for once, Kakashi agreed that this was not an appropriate time for another best interest confrontation, as he knew Iruka would find the next three days stressful enough.

He gave a light chuckle, sitting at the opposite side of the table as he presented a glass of juice for the younger man. "Don't worry, Sai. It's just a wash. No baths today, I promise."

Deciding to change the subject quickly, Kakashi turned his attention to a full plastic bag sitting on the table and picked it up. Iruka watched curiously as he took another large bite of his toast, oblivious to manners as he filled his mouth quickly out of habit. He had not noticed the bag on the table since sitting down, the slave's attention having been captured elsewhere.

"I bought you some things to keep you busy while I'm away," Kakashi explained as he emptied the bags contents on the table. Iruka studied them with confusion, unsure of what they were but interested in what his master had for him.

Kakashi's pale hands reached for a large but thin book, its front cover decorated with bright colours and pictures. He opened it up for Iruka to see. The pages inside contained black and white outlines of different animal pictures. Kakashi then opened a packet of different coloured crayons as they fell and scattered over the double pages.

Iruka's eyes widened in surprise, and for a moment he felt strange. A familiar feeling filled him like a memory, yet so vague it made little sense to him. Moving his empty plate aside, Iruka reached for a crayon and studied it in his hands.

Kakashi was completely memorised, knowing he had triggered something as Iruka gripped the crayon between the tips of his fingers in a delicate manner, having forgotten the correct position to hold it. Kakashi took a crayon of his own and began colouring in a section in the book, demonstrating as he encouraged the slave. Leaning forward, Iruka lightly stroked the tip of the crayon against the paper, his eyes switching back and forth from Kakashi's example as he then hurried his strokes.

"Maa, that's very good!" Kakashi praised, glowing inside at further progress he was able to experience with Iruka.

There was a small sense of concern in the back of Kakashi's mind that all of the progress they had made may be affected by this sudden change. Iruka was finally starting to lower his guard, and the last thing Kakashi wanted was for the slave to think he had been abandoned.

He still had many plans for the future, and his first was to find a way to teach Iruka to express himself through words. Kakashi knew it would not be easy; Iruka had lost, or forgotten the use of shaping his tongue and lips to form his words. They would have to start from the beginning - but it was something Kakashi was actually looking forward to. It was a selfish motive, he supposed, but he wanted to teach Iruka everything. He wanted to be there for every discovery, experience, and achievement Iruka made. He would never admit it even to himself, but Kakashi inwardly felt that Iruka belonged with him, and he did not want to share.

There was a new presence of an emotion Kakashi was not familiar with, one of which he only experienced when Iruka was by his side. He could not explain it, but at Kurenai's urging demand for Iruka to be treated with proper care in a safe and professional environment, the first argument that came to the surface of Kakashi's mind was; 'he's mine.'

Obviously he did not voice this thought as Kakashi was aware this was not right. He felt ashamed of himself as he realised how close this thought related with Masaki's relationship with Iruka. But this was nothing to do with money. It seemed no longer about his guilt at his part in Iruka's misery for not realising the slave had been living there all this time. There was a strong, burning sensation inside him that wanted to care for Iruka and keep him safe, and he wanted Iruka to need him too.

He watched as Iruka remained distracted, colouring in the pages. There was a sad look in Kakashi's eye, as though he knew it was only a matter of time before his secret would crash open, and the Hokage would find out that Umino Iruka was alive.

He chased away his thoughts, knowing they only had a little bit of time left before he had to leave. Kakashi turned his attention to a thick folded piece of blue material he had managed to find and purchase this morning.

"I know I said I would get your blanket when I came back," he murmured, opening up the large stretch of fabric for a better view.

Iruka's brown eyes blinked wide as he gave a quiet gasp at the beautifully stitched dolphin decorated blanket. His eyes lifted to Kakashi, who was smiling through his eyes.

"You did so well yesterday with Asuma and Kurenai - I thought you deserved it today."

Iruka's stomach fluttered and quivered and tightened as a thin line of water appeared in his eyes. He did not know how to react, as his master presented his slave with such a beautiful gift. Already he was showered with privileges he could never have dreamt of receiving from Masaki; a warm bed to sleep in each night, three meals a day with snacks and drinks, and the promise to be spared from beatings and other painful punishments. Now, he had received a beautiful gift with no payment or returned favour other than to follow his master's rules - which Iruka was beginning to understand, were not difficult to follow at all.

Kakashi felt his pity return at the slave's reaction. He folded the blanket back up and offered to the slave. "Maa, why don't you go and put it on your bed, so you can sleep with it tonight, hm?" his eyes curled in a soft smile. "I'll meet you up there in a minute, after I've cleaned up."

x-

When Kakashi entered the bedroom, the blanket had been neatly laid on top of the duvet, and Iruka seemed hesitant to sit down in fear of spoiling it. Instead, he was standing beside the bed, waiting to be told what to do next.

Kakashi was carrying a large washing-up bowl, filled with warm, soapy water and a flannel floating inside. He knew that Iruka would feel more comfortable washing in the bedroom than bathroom, and on this occasion allowed that. Eyeing the bed for a moment, he looked back to Iruka and gestured the bowl in his hands.

"Maa, can I put this down here?"

Iruka nodded softly, once again giving his master permission to do something. His hesitance seemed to be fading as he was gaining more confidence in both himself and Kakashi.

Kakashi carefully placed the bowl into the bed, ensuring there were no splashes as he realised Iruka was becoming familiar with the sense of personal possession, and wanted to encourage his respect for it. He closed the curtains and opened the wardrobe, searching for Iruka's new clothes and a fresh towel.

"Can you take your night shirt off for me, please?" he distantly asked as he arranged Iruka's outfit. Iruka tugged his shirt over his head, pulling roughly at the sleeves as he managed to shrug himself out of it, discarding it to the floor.

Placing the fresh clothes and towel on the bed, Kakashi then took the flannel from the bowl and gave it a squeeze. He turned to Iruka and handed him the flannel.

"I want you to wash your face for me now," he instructed, wanting Iruka to learn to see to his own hygiene needs. He brushed his fingers through the slave's hair to hold the strands away from his face, making the task easier for him.

Iruka complied, squeezing his eyes closed as he scrubbed his face. "That's it," Kakashi smiled, watching the remains of breakfast wash away. "And behind your ears and neck,"

He helped Iruka wash his back and underarms to ensure they were properly cleaned, eliciting a squirm and snort from the slave.

When they had finished, Kakashi watched Iruka's attempt to dry himself, and quickly dried him over again to prevent any sores appearing in Iruka's sensitive skin. He applied body lotion to the slave's tanned skin, gently rubbing the cream over rough patches and old scarring.

"I've told Kurenai and Asuma not to bath you," he said quietly as he applied more cream. He almost felt the slave's shoulders relax as though this put him at ease a little. "It's going to be ok."

There was a sudden knock at the door, and Kakashi sighed at the annoyance of visitors arriving early.

"Asuma and Kurenai are here," He handed Iruka some fresh underwear and bottoms. "Can you put these on for me, please - I'll be back in a minute."

Before Iruka could respond, Kakashi had rushed downstairs to answer the door. Iruka opened up the pair of blue boxer shorts in panic, feeling rushed as he tried to decide which sides were front and back.

x-

"You're earl-" Kakashi paused as he caught sight of the large object in Asuma's hands. "What's that?"

"A video player." Asuma answered with a weak smile that suggested this was not his idea.

"We noticed you didn't have one," Kurenai lifted a large rattling bag strapped over her shoulder filled with a dozen videos. "I found these in a bargain bucket and thought Iruka might like them,"

"Sai..." Kakashi reminded quietly, stealing a glance of the stair way. "Thank you... I'm sure they'll keep him occupied for a while." He stepped aside to let his comrades in. "He's still getting dressed, so... if you want to make yourself at home, I'll be back in a minute."

Kurenai stepped inside with an evident attempt of feeding their fascination without seeming to, as she glanced around Kakashi's living room. Asuma carried the video player towards the television. He placed the video player on the floor and sat down, slipping a cigarette between his lips as he prepared to connect the television.

'Make yourself at home,' Kakashi thought to himself as he turned back to the stairs, smiling weakly behind his mask at the unusual sentence. He was not very comfortable at the idea of his comrades staying in his private space, a personal trait he would have to shift aside for now as he knew it was better for Iruka to stay here with Asuma and Kurenai, than move to a new and different environment.

Upon entering the bedroom, Kakashi stopped in his tracks in surprise at Iruka. Instead of waiting for Kakashi's instructions, Iruka had already fully dressed himself from head to toe. Each piece of clothing was correct and pulled neatly in place, and Iruka was standing in the middle of the room with a look of embarrassment as he tried to gain more of his master's praise.

"Perfect!" Kakashi approved with a high tone of enthusiasm. "Maa, you're a fast learner."

The slave blushed at the attention, but inwardly enjoyed his master telling him he had gotten it right. It was the independence Kakashi had hoped Iruka would respond well to, as he was left in charge of a task. No matter how simple it seemed, it was clearly a big deal to Iruka.

Picking up a hairbrush from the side, Kakashi lifted it for Iruka to see. "Can I brush your hair quickly?"

Iruka nodded, turning around as Kakashi plucked a hair tie wrapped around the brush. The strands were resistant at first with knots formed since the previous time Kakashi had tidied his hair. It was obvious that Masaki had taken quite good care of Iruka's hair throughout the slave's time with his previous master, as the strands were in good condition. Kakashi assumed Masaki's maids often took care of the slave's appearance with grooming for client viewings, as he could see a hint of stubble forming underneath Iruka's nose and around his jaw. He could also see small faint lines of scarring around the area, suggesting the task had not been carried out with much care, or that Iruka often struggled.

Kakashi had decided it was best to be patient with the idea of shaving, as he wasn't sure how Iruka would react and did not want to risk any more damage to the man's sensitive skin. He wanted to ensure enough trust had grown between them before tackling that aspect of care, and decided he would softly approach the subject once he returned.

The bristles rolled gently through the chocolate strands, running along Kakashi's palm. Iruka was still and calm, trusting his master at his blind spot and even closing his eyes as he liked the touch. Kakashi brushed Iruka's hair back into a neat pony tail, and gently tied it up.

"Ready?"

x-

Kurenai and Asuma turned to the stairs when they heard footsteps approaching. Kakashi appeared first, gently tugging the slave's hand behind him. The slave's finger's tightly enveloped Kakashi's hand as he stayed close for reassurance.

"Good morning, Sai-kun!" Kurenai greeted with a friendly voice and warm smile. It was clear she still was not comfortable with this plan, but couldn't help her soft spot for him. "How are you?"

Iruka nodded softly in response, meeting her eyes. He liked Kurenai already. She had a caring and motherly nature that put Iruka at ease. It was the other one who threatened that sense of security, a fear which had formed once Iruka was introduced to the wider reality of what men were capable of. Most of the clients who visited at Masaki's were men, and Masaki would often encourage clients to take a closer look, and did not mind his slaves being touched as it would often help negotiate a price.

Asuma greeted Iruka with a friendly smile that curled around his cigarette, and lifted his hand to signal a soft wave. He could already sense the tension as he had experienced it last night, and decided to quickly shift his attention back to stacking up the videos for later.

Sensing the awkward atmosphere, Kurenai turned to Kakashi. "I've managed to swap things around a little, so I'll be staying with Sai-kun tonight. I have an assignment tomorrow night that I just can't swap, so Asuma will stay then. But for now, he's got both of us."

Iruka stole a glance of Asuma, realising he would be alone with him tomorrow night. He tried to focus on what Kakashi had said about his friendship with Asuma, that Kakashi trusted him. His gaze lowered to the floor and he became lost in his thoughts, the conversation around him now a distant noise as he struggled to keep up and understand.

Kakashi nodded in appreciation. He knew that Iruka would feel more comfortable if Kurenai stayed with him first, as he seemed to respond to her. "Maa, that's a good plan. Thank you, Kurenai."

"I'll do my best to help Sai," Kurenai said quietly, her eyes fixed on Kakashi. "But remember what I said, Hatake."

Kakashi nodded again in acknowledgement, willing to take full responsibility if anything happened.

"Come sit with me, Sai," he gave the slave's hand a gentle tug towards the couch. Iruka sat down beside him, and Kakashi could see in the younger man's face that he was nervous of what was to come.

He decided that first he needed to ensure Iruka understood that the same rules applied once he was in Asuma and Kurenai's care. He reached into pocket, searching for something. Iruka watched as he revealed a set of keys and offered them to Kurenai.

"These are for the front and back door. The gold one is for the chain by the radiator - that is the naughty spot."

Kurenai's expression dropped in a grimace at the uncomfortable concept. She held the keys in her hand, unsure on whether she could follow through with such a thing.

"Remember, Asuma and Kurenai are in charge," Kakashi stated. "You need to listen to them. If you're rude, then you'll go into the naughty spot - do you understand?"

Iruka nodded weakly and looked to the floor.

Kurenai gave him a soft smile. "I'm sure we won't need to use it at all."

"I want you to behave as well for them as you have for me." Kakashi praised. Iruka nodded again, small smile forming on his lips.

"This is only for three days, I promise. Kurenai and Asuma are here to help you, but you need to help them too. They're going to make you breakfast, lunch, and dinner every day. They're going to keep you company, and keep you safe,"

"I can make you whatever you want to eat, Sai," Asuma interrupted, trying his best to prove his good intentions. "We've brought some videos for you to watch too..."

"See?" Kakashi smiled through his eye. "You'll be fine. You'll have lots of fun."

Kakashi glanced at the clock and sighed. He couldn't delay any more; he was late already. "Maa, I have to get going," he murmured, standing to his feet.

Iruka stood up with him, a sudden ache throbbing in his chest as he watched his master put on his flak jacket, preparing to leave him. He stepped closer, surprising Kakashi when the jounin felt the slave's hands push behind him, and pull him close. Kakashi's breath caught in his throat, taken back by the gesture. But his expression quickly relaxed in a soft smile hidden behind his mask. He closed his arms around Iruka's shoulders in a strong but gentle hold. "I'll see you real soon, ok?"

Iruka nodded, his face buried in his master's warm chest.

Releasing Iruka from the embrace, Kakashi turned to his comrades. "Thanks again for your help."

"Take care, Hatake." Asuma smirked.

"We'll be fine," Kurenai reassured, resting a hand on Iruka's shoulder in a comforting manner.

Kakashi gave Iruka one last look and smile before he left, leaving behind a silence that filled the room. Iruka stared at the door for a moment as though waiting for him to come back, but he didn't.

Suddenly Iruka felt empty, his safety net pulled from under him as his master left. He looked at Asuma and Kurenai, and all over again he felt lost and scared. He watched his new masters, unsure of what to do, or where to stand. That feeling of not knowing his place returned, afraid of the sudden change, and the control that these two strangers had been granted over him.

Kurenai watched him from the corner of her eye, pretending to be distracted by Asuma opening a new packet of cigarettes. In the corner of her eye, she saw the slave turn and disappear into the kitchen.

She shared a worried glance with Asuma, both jounin unsure on how to respond. 'I'll go,' Asuma mouthed to her, as he quietly approached the kitchen.

He poked his head around the corner to see what the slave was doing, and blinked in surprise at the childlike sight before him. Iruka was sitting at the kitchen table and colouring in his book. Asuma assumed this was a form of technique to distract himself from Kakashi's absence, as Asuma had noticed how attached Iruka seemed to be to the Copy Ninja.

"You've done a great job of that." Startled, Iruka and looked up at the doorway where his new master was standing, cigarette still grasped between his lips as he studied Iruka's work. Once he'd caught his eye, Asuma offered another friendly, harmless smile. "Would you like a drink?"

Iruka nodded, his response distant. Asuma poured him a glass of orange juice and set it down on the table, taking a seat opposite him. The slave reached for the glass and pulled it towards him, taking a long sip.

"You really have no reason to be afraid of me," Asuma said quietly, unsure on whether or not it was best to acknowledge Iruka's dislike towards him. He did catch Iruka's attention though, as the slave stilled his hand on the page. "I'm not going to hurt you."

Iruka didn't move his focus from the pages. He didn't want to insult his new master, or fall for any attempted tricks. With Kakashi absent, he felt a lot of his strength disappear, unable to warn off any intentions of cruelty. While he considered Kakashi's promise that he would be safe, he was afraid to lower his guard. Not every man was like his master.


End file.
